Nothing to Lose
by Nurse Betty Page
Summary: Set in The End of Time (AU) the Doctor chooses not to regenerate, because he wants to live, and decides to fight the radiation poisoning and find a cure. After enlisting the help of Donna, they search to find another version of the Doctor willing to donate the bone marrow he needs to survive - but it seems other versions of the TimeLord are not willing to tamper with the timeline..
1. Chapter 1

**Nothing to Lose**

 **Author Note: This fic is AU and pairs the Tenth Doctor with Donna and is about the Doctor deciding to find a way to survive the radiation poisoning to avoid regenerating, because when he said he didn't want to go, he meant it – he very much wants to live, and decides to find a way to cheat death...**

* * *

 **Summary:**

 **After his exposure to deadly radiation, the Doctor is faced with a choice: To say farewell to his former companions and to face the inevitable, or to fight to hold on to the life he is not ready to leave behind.**

 **The Doctor makes the choice to fight the radiation poisoning, and also decides to enlist the help of Donna – and after finding her sleeping and kissing her to draw out some of the power she absorbed to lend him some much needed strength, Donna Noble wakes to remember everything – but the memories no longer burn like fire in her mind.**

 **The Doctor explains everything – and it is then Donna learns of his radiation exposure, and of how he has decided to fight to the bitter end to try and hold on to the life he is not ready to leave.**

 **He explains that injecting heavily concentrated micro doses of medication will hold off the inevitable, but he can't last long on the shots, and must look to one of his other selves for the hope of a cure - his only chance of living a longer life in his current regeneration being a transfusion of bone marrow.**

 **It seems simple enough, to send out a distress signal to reach through space and time, in the knowledge that at least one of his other selves would be willing to help – but it soon becomes apparent that other versions of the Doctor all agree on the same thing:**

 _ **No one wants to tamper with the timeline...**_

 **As his condition weakens and the medication becomes harder to tolerate, the Doctor reaches out again to the only Doctor willing to listen, his future Twelfth incarnation, but despite his pleading, Twelve then tells him he would not want to run the risk of endangering his own future existence.**

 **With all hope exhausted, the Doctor and Donna travel to a far away, peaceful planet where the Doctor, exhausted and ready to give up, waits for the end. But Donna has not given up on sending out the distress signal - and when it is answered again, help will come in the most unexpected way...**

* * *

 **Rated T**

 **Warnings: Heavy emotional rollercoaster, deals with the subject of life threatening illness and mortality, also adult themes and discussions.**

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 **Disclaimer: I own nothing and write for love of the fandom.**

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Chapter 1

The Doctor was alone in his Tardis.

He ached to his bones,and this was just the start of the pain caused by the radiation poisoning - he knew by the way his cuts and bruises had already healed, that it wouldn't belong until he regenerated.

Anger burned in his dark eyes as he fought back tears that were nothing to do with pain:

 _He didn't want to go._

 _He wasn't ready._

 _He still had so much to do..._

Pain flickered through his body and he knew he was already starting to burn up a fever. Regeneration was his only escape from a painful death, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

For a split second he pictured himself revisiting old friends, seeing them one last time, perhaps even travelling back to 2005 to tell Rose she was going to have a great year...

 _And then what?_

 _He wasn't ready for death._

 _He had been fighting it ever since the prophecy..._

 _Suddenly, he knew what to do._

 _He wasn't ready to die – he was going to fight this..._

* * *

The Doctor was sweating heavily as he took off his coat and tossed it aside, then he left the console room and made for the med bay, all the while thinking about what he kept in there in the event of acute radiation exposure.

He took off his jacket and tie and left them where they fell, reaching up to his throat to tug open the buttons on his shirt. Then he stripped it off and drew in a heavy breath as a trickle of sweat ran down his chest. His head ached, his body was burning with fever and the pain that sunk to his bones would get frighteningly worse without medication.

 _He had no time to lose._

The Doctor sat down in a reclining chair as a monitor flickered above him.

"Scan whole body and then administer blood transfusion," he ordered, "Own blood stock _only_ – then rescan, and diagnose."

Then as the metal side of the chair slid down and a needle attached to a tube slid out, the Doctor gave a cry of pain as flickers of deep pain shot through his bones. By the time he had drawn in a second slow breath to try and breathe though the discomfort, the needle was in a vein and he looked down and watched as his own, stored blood that he kept for emergency purposes ran into his arm.

The Doctor continued to breathe slowly as he sat in the reclined chair and his shirtless upper body glistened with sweat. This would help, but not for long - he didn't have enough blood to constantly transfuse. He thought about his options:

He had acute radiation syndrome on a massive scale. He had taken far more of a lethal dose than most species could withstand. He was still alive – for now – because he was a Time Lord. Suddenly the Doctor felt as if he was playing a dangerous balancing game with his future lives,because if there was no cure and he refused to regenerate, he would die. Regeneration was his species way of cheating death, his way to repair and renew a damaged body cell by cell. But he didn't want that, not unless he had to. He was too determined not to go to take _that_ route...

The needle felt cold and sharp and it stung as the blood continued to flow into his body. This was by no means a long term cure – this was a quick fix to give him time to think, to make his plans.

 _Time was short now and every second mattered._

The Doctor looked around the med bay, recalling what he stored there in case of emergencies:

Yes, he had medication capable of treating the radiation. High concentrated micro doses of drugs, implants that could be loaded into a device that looked like a small pistol and shot under the surface of his skin. The side effects would be terrible. The pain would be terrible. It would all be terrible, and he couldn't do this alone. He needed to delay the onset of the final stage of the poisoning to grab enough time to send out a signal, Tardis to Tardis.

 _He needed bone marrow._

 _Only the Doctor could save the Doctor now..._

As the last of the transfusion completed and the needle slid out of his flesh, he closed his eyes as the scanner ran its light over his body again. Pain flickered in his bones and he felt mildly sick. His head was still aching and he thought of pain relief and decided to wait to see the read out at the end of the scan. There would be a long list of medication available, and pain relief would be on that list.

At that moment as he sat up and the pain deepened and he trembled as he gripped the arm rest of the chair, pain relief was _all_ he could think about. Then the monitor lit up as a long list of details came up:

He blinked as the wording blurred and then managed to focus.

It was a long, _long_ list of strong drugs and a long list of side effects, too.

He touched the screen to agree to everything, because he still wanted to live even though the pain was frightening, then he saw pain relief on that list along with details of the micro concentrated doses of medication and the diagnosis that without bone marrow, his time would soon be up.

 _Without a donor, he would have three months._

The Doctor got up weakly from the chair, paused to watch the unit open up on the side of the chair, and then he took out the gun. It was pre-loaded with enough doses of medication to keep him alive for three months, but he wasn't going to take the first shot yet, not until he had showered and changed his clothes and then he would go and find the one person who could get him through this.

 _He had once made her forget everything, but that had been then._

 _Everything had changed now._

He was weakened, he could pull some of that power out of her and it would also help to hold him up, at least to function fully for as long as the medication kept him going until a donor could be found.

His mind was made up now:

 _He needed her, he needed Donna Noble..._

* * *

Donna was sleeping on the sofa. She was wearing dark trousers and a loose fitting white top, she hadn't even kicked her shoes off, she had just laid back on that sofa and closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. The TV was on with the volume turned down, and its light flickered into the otherwise darkened room. Outside the moon was full and bathed the garden in a silvery light.

If she had seen a man open the door and creep into the front room where she lay sleeping, she wouldn't have recognised him,wouldn't have known anything but the fact that there was an intruder in the house.

He realised for a split second, she would get the fright of her life...

The Doctor stood over her, looking down at her as he wondered if he was being selfish. An engagement ring sparkled on her finger and he felt a slight sting of resentment as he guessed if she had not forgotten him,she wouldn't be planning to marry a human. She had been the one person who he could have seen a future with...It could have happened...

 _Maybe it wasn't too late._

 _Or perhaps it was too late for everything._

The Doctor wondered if the radiation was affecting his judgement and he hoped he was wrong about that, even though it was already in his bones and every major organ including his brain.

He glanced about the darkened room. It was gone nine thirty pm and the car was missing, so was her mother and Wilf.

 _Donna was alone._

 _Like it was meant to be._

 _Or maybe he was just desperate to believe that..._

Donna gave a sigh and turned her head and for a moment he looked at her, watching her sleeping, feeling so much regret for the fact that he had been forced to make her forget everything. But thanks to the damage his body had sustained he could pull out some of that power now. It wouldn't cure him, but it would certainly be a tonic and right now his body was like a sponge, desperate to absorb anything remotely resembling regenerative power.

And most importantly, it would lift out much of what had been burned into her mind – not all, but most. She would certainly be more Donna than Doctor Donna, and best of all, thanks to his condition, it would not harm either of them...

As he knelt down beside her, he caught the sparkle of the ring on her finger as it reflected moonlight, he thought about how her life had moved on since he had left her. Then he guessed that maybe he shouldn't be worrying about the consequences any more, because he would most likely die before a donor could be found and then Donna would go back to this life she had made for herself.

 _Anything seemed possible._

 _Or perhaps nothing really was._

 _He didn't know any more._

"I'm sorry," he whispered, considering the shock she was about to get,and then he reached forward, placing his fingertips on her temples.

" _Donna, wake up."_

And Donna Noble gave a gasp, waking in the dim light to see a man leaning over her, his dark hair was damp and his face gleamed with perspiration and shadows darkened beneath his eyes. His fingertips were on her temples and heat was drawing out of her mind, through her eyes, through her mouth, and it burned like fire.

 _It burned like time itself._

He slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her towards him, his mouth locking with hers.

 _It wasn't a kiss._

The fire was being tugged out of her, until just a tiny ember remained, an eternal flame that would never darken somewhere deep in her mind.

And he let go of her and she sat up, hit with a stream of memories and emotions that made her eyes glaze with tears.

She stared at him.

He stayed at her side, looking back at her.

Donna kept her gaze fixed on him, recalling so much and then more as she remembered their reason for parting.

" _Doctor?"_ she said in a hushed voice, and she reached out, wondering if this was a dream, until her hand connected with the shoulder of his coat, and she found him to be solid.

"It's really you?"

" _Yes,"_ he whispered,and then as she embraced him, he clung to her, thankful to hold her, as he wished he had held her long before, and told her everything before it had been too late...

Donna still felt bewildered as he let go of her, and then he leant heavily on the coffee table and then the arm of the sofa to get to his feet, before sitting down heavily beside her.

"But you made me forget -"

" _I know."_

"And you just -"

" _I know,"_ he said again.

She reached for the lamp and snapped on the light, and then her eyes widened as she stared at him.

"You look awful! You look really ill, what's wrong with you?"

The lamplight had done nothing to disguise the pallor to his face or the dark shadows under his eyes. He was visibly perspiring as if running a fever and his usually fantastic hair was soaked through and darkened with sweat.

"Something happened," he said to her,"I need to explain. And then I need you to come with me to the Tardis, I'm in trouble and I can't get through this without you."

 _And then he told her everything._

 _The battle with the Master._

 _The radiation chamber, and how he had saved her grandfather._

Donna had listened in shocked silence, and when the Doctor had finished speaking, her first thought was for her Gramps.

"He hasn't said a word! He never told me -"

"You had to forget, I wanted to protect you from reminders."

"And what about now?This isn't exactly protecting me!"

"It doesn't matter now. I'm shot through with more radiation than my body can handle. I'm desperate to absorb power – your kind was just right to set me straight...for a bit, anyway... it's a short term fix..."

He paused.

"I have enough meds to keep me going, to fight off the worst of the effects of the radiation but its not nearly enough. I don't want to regenerate, I'm not ready, I don't want to give in to this and become a new person, not yet!"

Desperation shone in his dark eyes.

"And I need your help, I can't get through this alone. I'm dying, Donna, I'm dying and I'm trying to save myself!"

Donna stared at him, hearing him say those words had made her feel as if the floor had just given way.

"Dying? Oh my god, no..."

She drew in a sharp breath as her eyes glazed with tears that she fought hard to keep back. The Doctor was in a terrible situation and she wasn't about to make it worse by becoming useless and weepy on him.

"But you said you can save yourself?"

Since he had absorbed some of her energy, the sweating had lessened and he seemed a little stronger now.

"I've got three months of highly concentrated micro doses of medication – patches that go under the skin to fight off the damage, or at least hold it back from worsening. Very advanced and very effective chemotherapy."

Now she felt like her heart, which had been aching for him, had just broken in half.

" _Chemo?"_

"It's not going to be easy and it won't be pretty and I can't do this alone. I have three months to track down one other version of myself and persuade him to be my donor. I need bone marrow. That will give me maybe another fifty years or more before the remission ends, and when that time comes, I _have_ to regenerate– I can accept that, and I'm willing at the end of that time to return to the time and place I should be to regenerate. I just need those extra years, I can't go yet."

"Fifty years would be better than nothing," Donna said to him, and she reached out and closed her hand over his, "Might not be long to you, but it could be a life time to -"

"To who?"he asked.

Her gaze was locked with his. She had held back that last word, but now she wanted to set it free.

" _Us,"_ she she replied in a hushed voice, _"You and me. I never wanted to leave, I was supposed to stay with you forever. "_

The Doctor managed a smile despite his pain.

"Maybe you will," he said to her, "Fifty years is a long time when you make the most of every single day."

"What are you saying, Doctor?"

As he held on to her hand, his fingertip brushed her engagement ring.

"Maybe nothing. It's your choice."

Donna fell silent, looking down at the ring on her finger and then holding the Doctor's hand a little tighter, a gesture that gave him more hope than he dared voice aloud.

"Where's the family tonight?" he asked.

"Out to dinner, mum's birthday – my treat, but I was working late so I couldn't go with them."

"Instead you fell asleep on the sofa and woke up to find me here...me and this terrible situation. I'm so sorry but I had no one else to turn to."

He met her gaze again.

"You don't have to do this. It's up to you."

Donna let go of his hand and got up from the sofa.

"I think you know I've already decided," she replied, and then she grabbed a notepad and pen from the table and hastily wrote a note:

 _'Gramps, the Doctor is in trouble. I may be gone a long time. He needs my help, he's not well. And don't worry about my memories waking up again, he fixed it for me. I'm okay. I'll call you. Give mum an excuse for me, love Donna .'_

The Doctor got up, and was relieved that movement was a little easier now. He went out to the hallway and watched as Donna ran upstairs with the note, then she came back downstairs, grabbed her jacket and her bag and headed for the front door.

"I left the note under his pillow. He'll cover for me," she said, then she opened the front door and they left the house together and walked back towards the place where the Tardis was waiting.

* * *

As they reached the blue box and the Doctor opened the door, the glow from within only seemed to emphasise the shadows under his eyes and the lines on his face that were usually light when he smiled, that were now etched deeper by pain.

"Are you sure?" he asked her, "Because this is going to be very hard and I may not survive it. You don't have to do this."

"Oh yes I do," Donna said in that tone of voice that told him she was taking no nonsense from him at all, "I'm with you, no second thoughts – there never was a choice. _I'm here_."

"Thank you," he said quietly, and then he opened up the door and they went inside, then the door closed, and moments later the Tardis vanished from sight, taking the Doctor and Donna far from Earth and up into the starlit velvet night of space.

As the ship drifted peacefully, the Doctor leant on the console as he tried to hide the pain that ran through his body, and on seeing such understanding in her eyes as she stepped closer and told him quietly they would sort this out together, he felt sure Donna would never know how grateful he was that thanks to her, he didn't have to face this nightmare alone...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

" _What now?"_

Donna's voice had broken through the stillness in the console room as the Tardis continued to travel through space. The Doctor had been leaning on the console as he looked down at the controls, his thoughts far from this room as he seemed to be so far from her that she was afraid she couldn't reach him, he was wrapped in his own thoughts as he fought against pain that had already taken its toll.

"Doctor?" Donna said, "I asked you a question -"

"I know you did...I was just thinking...thinking _too_ much. _I've got too much to think about and not enough time to think it all in, I'm scared I'm going to die now, or tomorrow or -"_

"Stop it!"

As she stepped closer and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, he met her gaze and her closeness was enough to steady him and pull his shattered nerves back together.

"You said we need to send a signal?" she offered.

He nodded.

"Yes.. _that._..But not yet, I have to do something else first, if I don't do it, I won't be here in three months time..."

He took off his coat and tossed it aside, and Donna retrieved it from the floor, stepped away from the console to drape it over the back of a chair, and then as he took his jacket off, she took it from him and also draped that neatly. Then her eyes clouded with worry.

"What are you shaking for?"

"I'm scared," he replied honestly, and now the sweat that was coming up on his face was nothing to do with his symptoms - it was pure fear, and as he met her gaze, she saw it too, and it shocked her to see just how terrified he was. This was the man who had taken her around the galaxy and showed her wonders and dangers and all of the things she would remember forever – yet through it all, she had _never_ seen him looking so afraid...

"Come on," she said kindly, "Don't be scared...you're not alone."

"I know that," he said quietly, and then he drew in a shaky breath and felt a sting as his eyes blurred with tears as he spoke again, "I know that, Donna. And I'm glad I'm not on my own...I have to fix a micro concentrated patch under my skin... _That will be the first of many doses of medication strong enough to hold back the worst effects of acute radiation syndrome and you could cut one of those patches in half and halve it again - and then, cut off a tiny corner of one of those halves and implant it into a human and they would instantly die._ That's how strong it is, and each dose increases, anticipating me worsening. It's going to _hurt_ , it's going to go beyond pain and I'm not sure how much I can take," determination burned in his eyes, burning through the fear now, "But I'm _not_ ready to give up yet. _I have too much to hold on for._ "

Then the Doctor reached into his pocket and drew out a tiny silver device that looked somewhere between a pistol and a staple gun. In the body of the device was a narrow, transparent chamber packed with tiny square implants.

"They break down harmlessly once the dose is dispersed into the patient's system," he said, turning the gun over to give her a closer look, "I have to take the first shot now..."

"Not like this," Donna said, and her hand closed over the device, and he let go of it, breathed a heavy sigh and once again felt thankful for her presence.

"Not like what, standing here just wanting to get it over with? Why shouldn't I rush? It's going to _hurt_ and then it's going to get _worse_!"

"You don't know how you'll feel after you take it," she said to him, "You should let me help. And have a lie down afterwards."

"But it's not going to _stop_ dosing me up!" he exclaimed, "There's no going back once I take the first shot!"

Donna wanted to cry. She had wanted to cry ever since he had told her everything, but she didn't cry, because _he_ was also on the brink of tears.

"Let's do this calmly," she said, and he nodded in agreement.

"Okay, but I haven't showed you how to send the distress signal yet -"

"I think I know which switch to throw," she replied, "A bit of Doctor Donna kicking in there...I like that! You should have more faith in me!"

And she smiled, but he did not as he looked at her intently as the glow of the console room seemed to make the shadows under his eyes seem even deeper.

"We'll do it your way," he said quietly, "Come with me, you're right – I might well need a lie down after the first shot."

Donna breathed a relieved sigh.

"Just _keep_ listening to me, because it really makes me feel _so_ much better!" She told him, and then as he turned to leave the console room, Donna turned to leave with him - remembering to pick up his coat and jacket on the way out.

* * *

The walk down the corridor to the Doctor's bedroom had been filled with tension.

"I have no idea how I will react to this medication," he said nervously, "There are more than three hundred separate drugs in the dosage and..." he paused to retrieve a bottle of pills from his pocket, " _These are for pain relief, I can take them any time I want. It was these or the other ones...but on those I can't take more than twelve in twenty four hours and they increase my chance of nausea - which I'm going to suffer anyway, but I thought it might be easier with these. At least I had a choice_ -"

"Slow down!"

 _"Why, can't you keep up?"_

The Doctor was sweating again, and his eyes reflected deep anxiety.

"You're talking too fast," Donna said, "Take a deep breath, and stop talking for a minute. I think you're in some kind of shock, you must be – it's not every day you take a dose of radiation that could kill you - not that it will, I mean, we _will_ sort this out, okay?"

The Doctor looked scared as he fell silent and nodded.

Donna hated seeing him like this, he was _really_ scared, in a way that ran deep, in such a way that it seemed almost impossible to console him.

Finally, they reached the door that led to his bedroom, and the Doctor was still quiet, and still visibly shaken. Donna already knew no words of consolation would make much difference now, this definitely would _not_ be easy...

* * *

The Doctor opened the door and Donna went in first, she looked around the usually light room with its pale walls and big, comfortable bed. A long row of mirrored wardrobes lined one wall, and on the other, was a dressing table with another mirror on it. The floor was all black and white tiles, the room was lit by spotlights over head,but they instantly dimmed to a softer glow as the Doctor entered the room, that was the Tardis understanding his need for no harsh lighting, because the headache affected his eyes.

"I'll just sit on the bed and you can give me the shot," the Doctor said, and as he got on to the bed and sat there, he grabbed an extra pillow to cushion his aching back, and then he looked to Donna.

"You just place it against my skin and pull the trigger. It's just a sharp sting, and it gives off a sealant that stops bleeding and instantly closes the wound. Nothing left behind but a bruise. _Do it quick_."

Donna sat down on the edge of the bed and looked into his eyes.

"Just a sting?"

"I'll be fine."

"Okay then," she said, _"Pants down and turn over."_

He blinked, and then he stared at her.

"No...you _don't_ implant it in...in my..."

" _Not your arse, then?"_

Amusement sparkled in her eyes, and it was contagious and suddenly the Doctor was laughing with her and blinking away tears at the same time.

"How can you make me laugh at a time like this?" he said in surprise.

Donna reached up and brushed his sweat dampened hair off his face, then she leant closer and lightly kissed his forehead.

"That's better," she said, "You sound more like _you_ now."

His smile soon faded.

"It goes in my arm," he told her and then he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and extended his arm, "Let's get this over with."

Donna placed the device carefully against his flesh.

"Ready?"

"No I'm not, just do it!"

"Okay."

She pulled the trigger.

There was a loud _snap_ and the Doctor gave a gasp of pain, pulling back from the device as he grabbed at his arm. Donna set the device aside, looking on in alarm as the Doctor breathed heavily as he waited for the pain to subside.

"A sharp sting, you said!" she exclaimed.

He drew in another breath as he closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the throbbing to stop.

" _I was wrong...that was a guess...Actually it's more like being shot with an air gun!"_

Finally the pain was fading out. He was still breathing heavily as he cautiously extended his arm and turned it over, and Donna saw a sealed wound rapidly vanishing as a deep bruise appeared.

"I'd better get used to that," he said as the pain melted away, "I have to take one of these doses every four days."

"That's a lot of medication."

"Its going to be tough," he replied, and then as she climbed on the bed and sat beside him, he shifted over to make room, and then lay back as he breathed a relieved sigh, feeling glad the pain of the shot was over, and also glad that the pillow was soft - and it felt so good to be leaning against Donna's shoulder, too...

* * *

After a brief silence the Doctor suddenly felt like making a confession, and guessed as time was limited, there would never be a right time to say it, so he spoke his mind openly.

"I know your life went on after I left you, but I regretted leaving you. I missed you every single day, Donna Noble. I wanted you to be with me forever too. _And I was hoping_..."

He stopped right there, seeing the look in her eyes. He knew at once she felt the same, and it would have made his hearts beat a little faster if not for the fact that his hearts were already racing from the introduction of the medication into his blood stream.

"I think if you want to kiss me you should do it now," he advised her, "Before the side effects kick in. No one likes the smell of vomit."

Donna looked at him in surprise.

"Oh, you _do_ pick your moments!" she exclaimed,"Thanks a lot - romance and _sick_ in the same sentence? How can I resist?"

And then as he smiled her eyes shone with love.

"I'd better get in there quick, then," she said softly, and as their lips touched, he briefly winced and moved his bruised arm out of the way, then he put his other arm around her and they shared a deep and lingering kiss that had been long over due.

It was the Doctor who ended their kiss as he pulled back, letting his fingers slide through her hair as he looked into her eyes and saw deep longing for more that made him ache with regret for all the radiation had done to him.

"I'm a lot weaker than I look," he said to her, "I want to...but I can't, not right now. Maybe when the meds kick in..."

She saw such apology in his eyes she wanted to hug him and cry and tell him it really didn't matter, all that mattered was the fact that they were finally together...

She managed to smile.

"That's okay," she assured him, and then she stayed beside him, her arm around him as he rested with his head on her shoulder.

"Thanks," the Doctor said.

"What for, shooting you in the arm?"

He briefly smiled as he glanced at her.

"Yes. It's going to help me carry on."

Then he rested against her shoulder once more, looking away from her, so she didn't see the worry that clouded his eyes as he gently ran her fingers through his hair.

"So the side effects, they could be bad?"she asked.

"That's one way of putting it," he murmured, silently concluding _brutal_ would be a better description.

"How bad?" she said quietly.

He gave sigh.

"High temperature, shivering, breathing difficulties, chest pain, flu-like symptoms, nose bleeds, vomiting, hair loss...although I may not get _all_ of those, just a few...I may not get any of it at all if I find a cure fast enough."

He had reeled off that list calmly, trying to get it out of the way and not scare her too much, but Donna had already guessed it was going to be rough.

"Oh, and I forgot - irregular heartbeats...already had that one when the meds kicked in. It seems to be calming down now, but it _will_ come back. And tiredness. I'm not going to have much energy."

Donna was still running her fingers through his hair.

For some reason,what had hit hardest and really brought it home to her just how ill he was had been the mention of hair loss. She swallowed down a lump in her throat as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

"You don't have to worry, I'm here for you. I can handle this...You're going to lose your hair?"

"I might lose some," he replied, and she heard tension in his voice, "I might have to go a _bit_ shorter...that's the least of my worries."

Then he turned his head and met her gaze and noticed her eyes had gazed with tears, but he spelled out the truth all the same:

"I'm not going to lie, Donna. This is going to wreck my looks. I'm going to hate that even more than you will, but it won't be forever."

And she managed another smile as she held back from crying and kept her thoughts silent:

She loved his hair, she didn't want to cut it, she didn't want to change the way he looked. She knew it would _definitely_ break her heart if he asked her to shave his head...

Donna forced herself to stop fearing the worst, because it was the only way to hold back from weeping.

"Too right it won't be forever!" she said,"Now, do you feel up to showing me how to send the SOS? I think I can do it, but you'd better make sure I'm using the right controls."

The Doctor got up stiffly and paused to take a breath, then he slipped off his tie and opened up a few buttons on his shirt.

As Donna joined him worry clouded her eyes.

"Do you feel sick?"

"No," he replied as his face flushed and he began to perspire, "I'm just too hot, it's nothing, it will pass."

And then they left the bedroom and headed back to the console room, where the Doctor hoped Donna was right about recalling the Tardis functions - because he didn't know when the side effects would hit him with force, and he was already feeling the start of it...

* * *

Donna stood at the console and ran her gaze over the controls.

"Its _that_ one!" she announced, and reached for a small dial.

" _No, its not!"_ the Doctor said sharply, irritated by the headache and the flickering pain in his stiff bones and the rising heat beneath his flesh that made his twin hearts beat faster than usual, _"Take your hand off it!"_

And he brushed her hand away a little too roughly, then saw hurt in her eyes and instantly regretted doing that.

"I'm sorry," he said pausing to wipe seat from his face, "I feel lousy and this isn't a good time to teach you anything... _Never touch that dial!_ That's the _open channel_. Use that to send an SOS, and _every_ ship for miles around can hear you – _and_ hear the Doctor is in trouble, and not all who hear it will be a friend. Some could be enemies. _Anyone_ could catch that message!"

Then he reached over to a small white switch and flipped it as a small monitor beside it jumped to life.

" _This_ is the right one. If there's a huge crisis in the universe, all signals will reach every version of me if the situation demands, but my life hanging in the balance isn't a crisis on a massive scale because regeneration can solve it - so the Tardis won't do that on this occasion. I have to send and keep sending and hope one of my passing selves is close enough to pick up the call."

"And if there's nothing?" she asked.

"We keep trying. Or we go back to Earth and send from there because all my other selves have spent a great deal of time there, it might increase the odds of reaching at least one other version of me."

Then he remembered the channel was still open.

 _"SOS,"_ he said, _"This is the Doctor calling the Doctor. Please respond, I repeat, SOS."_

And they waited in silence as all that came back through the speaker system was the hiss of quiet static as the monitor also covered with static snow.

He flipped the switch again.

 _"SOS, this is the Doctor calling the Doctor. This is urgent, please help."_

Again, there was no reply.

Donna thought about how they were one ship out in the vastness of time and space - his other selves could be anywhere, as scattered as the stars. It was a frightening thought, because it had just dawned on her that maybe _none_ of them could hear the distress call, and maybe they never would...

The Doctor stepped back from the console, and he looked tired.

"Take over for a while, I need to rest."

Donna nodded.

"You have that rest," she said to him, and as the Doctor walked away, longing to rest his aching bones, he heard her send the call for help, and again, there was no reply.

 _Perhaps there never would be._

He didn't want to think about that as the meds kicked in and his temperature rose again, his twin hearts were beating faster than usual and he felt slightly breathless.

The Doctor knew he had to sleep now, and his only wish was to wake and hear the good news from Donna that contact had been made - although he still secretly feared it wouldn't happen. Maybe the fight would come to nothing,maybe he would lose this life because his death could be a fixed point in time - the Doctor just didn't know.

All he did know for certain was that his bones ached, and as he entered his bedroom the sight of his bed was a welcome relief, and so he lay down on it, closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep, while up the corridor, in the console room Donna was still making that call, and the reply of static hiss was all that echoed back...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

" _SOS...the Doctor needs help, calling the Doctor...SOS..."_

Donna listened again as the reply that came back was just a static hiss,and then she gave a sigh.

"Oh come on!" she said impatiently, " _Someone_ must be out there!"

Then she gave her hand a shake as it had started to go numb from being in the same position for so long, and she bent her aching thumb a few times, then hit the switch again.

"SOS. This is an emergency...the Doctor, calling the Doctor, any one of you...just answer! Donna Noble with a stiff thumb, _trying_ to save his life!"

And then she listened.

Static hissed, and suddenly the channel cleared.

" _What's the problem?"_

Donna looked into the screen, staring at the sight of a man she did not recognise, and behind him was unmistakeably a Tardis background. He had short hair and intense eyes and wore a leather jacket. That was all she could see, because he was leaning close to his own monitor.

"Come on then, speak!" he urged her as he stepped back a little, "This is a Tardis to Tardis frequency, what's the emergency?"

"Are you the Doctor?"

"Well yes, or I wouldn't be in my Tardis answering this call?"

"Which one are you?"

He blinked, looking at her in confusion.

"Does it matter?"

"Just for the record?"

"I'm the Ninth Doctor," he told her, "And you are?"

"Donna Noble. I'm with my Doctor - the Tenth. He needs help, he's dying."

" _Then he'll have to regenerate."_

He had said it as if it really was no big deal. Then he caught the look in Donna's eyes, and his own expression softened.

"Listen Donna," he said kindly, "Regeneration means change, _not_ death. Don't be scared. He's going to be fine."

And then he smiled.

"You don't understand -"

"No _you_ don't understand," the Ninth Doctor replied as his smile faded, "He's a Time Lord. When we die, we regenerate, its a way of cheating death. It really isn't complicated, I can explain in simple terms if you like -"

"No," Donna fumed as she glared at him, " _You_ listen to _me_ , big ears! _Simple terms?_ I'm _not_ stupid! It's not me – its the _Doctor_ who doesn't want this to happen! _He wants to survive_."

The Ninth Doctor stared at her.

"What exactly happened to him?"

"A massive dose of radiation. He's trying to fight it, he needs bone marrow, he can only get that from another Time Lord, another Doctor -"

"He can't do that," Nine said in a hushed voice, "No, Donna I'm sorry but there's _no way_ I'm having any part in this! If he needs to regenerate, it's his time. He should just let it happen. If he doesn't, it could be disastrous for the time line, it could endanger _every_ version of me - of him - who is supposed to follow. Think what consequence that could have for the universe!"

"I'm sure he's already thought of that!" she said sharply, "But he's desperate!" then her expression changed as she looked at him pleadingly, "You're the Doctor, you're another one of him, you _must_ think like him, you must want to help him? Isn't that what the Doctor does? He _saves_ people?"

The Ninth Doctor paused for thought, and then he looked away from the screen for a moment, as Donna waited, silently hoping he would agree to help.

As he looked back at the monitor, sadness shaded his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said, "If it was anyone else, yes of _course_ I'd try to help. But if he cheats death and the timeline changes...No, it's too dangerous. The risk is too great. The whole future of the Doctor could be altered, future regenerations could change - or never happen at all. If the time line was tampered with the consequences for the universe could be disastrous. I _have_ to think of the time line. I'm sorry, Donna Noble, but the answer has to be no."

" _But he's dying!"_

"And I just said, _No_. I'm sorry, I can't help you. _Tell him to regenerate_."

The channel went dead as snow covered the screen and the console room filled with a static hiss.

Donna turned off the switch and then turned away from the console she gave a heavy sigh, remembering there were many versions of the Doctor out there, and it didn't mean every single one would refuse just because number Nine had said no. Then she headed back down the corridor towards the Doctor's bedroom, her heart feeling heavy as she hated the thought of giving him such bad news...

* * *

" _Doctor?"_

Donna had spoken softly as she stroked his hair and the exhausted Time Lord turned on his side, gave a quiet groan of protest as the pain flooded back and he rested awkwardly as a dull ache settled in his bones, then he opened his eyes and saw Donna was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Any luck?" he said wearily as he sat up, pushed up his pillows and then rested against them a little more comfortably.

"No," she said.

The Doctor was properly awake now, and realised his shirt was soaked with sweat, so he sat up stiffly to strip it off before resting back against the pillows once more.

Donna wanted to take in the sight of just how attractive he looked with his shirt off - even though he was clearly in discomfort, he still had a great body...but now was not the time, it was just a passing thought and maybe that was all it would ever be, because he was ill and so far all she could hand him was bad news...

" _But I did reach another Doctor,"_ she said cautiously.

The hope she saw flicker in his eyes made her heart ache.

"Which one, and what did he say?"

She hesitated.

"Its not good."

"I don't care, we made contact, that's a start. What did he say, Donna?"

She met his gaze sadly.

"It was number Nine. I told him everything and he said there was no way he wanted to risk changing the time line. He said you should just let it happen and regenerate."

The hope she had seen in his eyes faded out.

"And he's right to worry," he agreed quietly, "But I'm confident I can do this and if I'm _really_ careful, nothing will change...at least, not in a bad way. I'm just trying to save myself, to buy some more time..."

"And I explained that, I told him you needed his help but he said no. How could he do that?"

"Because of the time line."

Donna thought about it.

"But if he's the one before you, why should he worry? His time line is safe."

"He's thinking of future regenerations,"the Doctor explained, "He's just thinking like the Doctor should think. I don't hold that against him."

"I'll keep trying," Donna promised, "You get some more rest."

Then she caught a look in his eyes, and she knew if not for the message that needed to be sent, he wanted nothing more than to just lie back and sleep – and not alone, because he needed a hand to hold.

"I'll be back soon, I'll make you some tea," she said softly, and then she kissed him, and turned away and left the bedroom, her heart still heavy as she thought on the prospect of sending out a signal all over again – a signal that could prove to be a complete waste of time...

* * *

Donna was soon back in the console room and truly resenting that switch as her thumb ached again.

"What a time to get RSI!" she complained as her thumb hurt from the constant on and off movement on the switch, "SOS, this is the Tardis calling the Doctor...the Doctor needs help. SOS."

There was a crackle through the static, and she looked to the monitor. The screen rolled with lines and then snow and then it cleared, and she saw another Tardis interior, and this time, the man on the screen was very different to the last:

His dark hair fell to his collar, his face was classically handsome and there was a soft look about his eyes. He wore clothing that she could only liken to the Edwardian era, and he smiled as he looked into the monitor.

"Hello, You needed a Doctor? It seems you found one. What can I do for you?"

Donna breathed a relieved sigh as she ran her fingers through her flame red hair and looked at him pleadingly.

"The Doctor is dying from radiation poisoning. But he doesn't want to regenerate. He wants to live, and he needs help. Can you understand that? He just wants more time."

"Of course I can understand that," he replied kindly, "Regeneration is painful and means complete change – a part of me lost, a new beginning each time... leaving so much behind. Can he use partial regeneration to repair the damage? I'm asking because if he can do that, he can retain his current persona. Or he could induce a healing coma to fix the damage. Has he forgotten he can do that?"

"I don't think so," Donna replied, "He said if he tries to heal himself, he will totally regenerate. The radiation is all the way through his body. He said he needs bone marrow from another version of himself, he said that's the only way to fix the problem and stay as he is."

"May I ask your name?" he said to her.

"Donna Noble," she replied.

"Well Donna Noble, I'm his Eighth incarnation. And as I have no recollection of attempting to do this in a previous life I'm guessing he's a future version of me, am I right?"

"He's the Tenth," she replied.

"I don't know him," the Eighth Doctor replied, "But I do wish him well. And I'm sorry, but if he's looking to a biological cure it means his body is beyond partial regenerative repair. His only real option is to regenerate. He can't cheat death and hold on like this, it could put the time line in danger."

Donna breathed out heavily, looking up at the Tardis ceiling as she held back her temper, then she looked back to the monitor once more.

"Yes I know, _time line, fate of the universe and all that!_ I'm starting to think this is the reaction I'll get _every_ time I reach someone – _time line, universe_...What about the Doctor? If it was you in his place, what would you want to happen? Would _you_ want to die?"

 _"I'd regenerate."_

Now she was feeling _really_ frustrated.

"But he's not ready to go! Don't you understand that? You haven't seen him, you don't _know_ him – he's so full of life, he loves his life and he wants to keep hold of it! Please think about it, he's on his own with this. He needs a donor."

"Why is he so desperate to hold on?" he asked her.

"Because he wants to live, I just told you that -"

He looked at her knowingly.

"Regeneration changes everything. Maybe he's afraid that change might cause the two of you to part. _I think he's holding on for you_."

Donna's eyes glazed with tears.

"He told me he loved me today."

The Eighth Doctor paused, thinking on all she had said.

"I do sympathise with your situation. And I wish there was something I could do. But I can't help you. Altering his death and the regeneration into another future version of myself is something that shouldn't be tampered with. The slightest delay,t he smallest change could have disastrous effects on the future of the Doctor and the universe."

"I've heard all this before," she said angrily, "Is _every_ Doctor I contact going to give me this speech?"

"I'm sorry," he replied, "There is nothing I can do. It's far too dangerous. And the reasons are clear. If he is too damaged to heal himself, he _has_ to regenerate. There is no other way. There's nothing else I can say to you. I wish I could offer you some hope, but I can't. I'm really sorry."

"So am I," she said quietly as her heart ached all over again as she thought of the Doctor, resting in bed, waiting for the news that he had something to hope for at last...it seemed that news wasn't going to come.

"Goodbye Donna," the Eighth Doctor said, and then the screen blinked off and once again all that carried from the speaker system was the hiss of static snow.

At that moment, Donna felt like giving up.

She leant on the console and looked at the snow covered screen and felt like flipping that switch and turning the airwaves blue with a stream of four letter words, purely out of frustration.

" _There must be someone out there..."_ she murmured, _"Come on Doctor, where are you?"_

And she flipped the switch and her thumb ached as she sent the message again and again, and she kept on sending, until her thumb felt too sore and the pain was running up to her wrist as a dull ache. It was then she stopped sending the signal, because she had been standing there for hours...

* * *

After taking a break to use the bathroom and then go to the kitchen to make some tea, she returned to the Doctor's bedroom.

"Are you okay?" she asked, knowing at once that he was far from okay – he was sitting up in bed, resting against pillows, breathing harder than usual as light perspiration made his skin gleam. His face was flushed and his hair was dampened with sweat, and as she sat beside him, he reached for her hand and clasped it tightly.

"This is getting rough... the meds are kicking in, feels more like the drugs are kicking me to death!"

"Pain killers?" she suggested.

The Doctor pointed to his trousers, which he had taken off before getting into bed in her absence.

"Over there."

She picked up his clothing from the floor draped it over a chair and took the pill bottle from his pocket.

"I'll get you some water," she told him, and she went through to the en suite bathroom, grabbed a glass and filled it and then brought it back to him.

The Doctor swallowed two pills and told her to leave the bottle at his bedside.

Then he rested briefly, welcoming the rapid effect of the pain relief starting to take effect.

He was still holding her hand as he spoke up again, and now he seemed out of pain and that was a great relief to Donna, because suddenly he sounded stronger even if he did still need a hand to hold.

"No luck on the SOS?"

"I met another version of you. Number Eight. Seemed like a nice enough bloke but again he said the same thing the other Doctor said – time line, universe, consequences!"

Donna gave a weary sigh.

The Doctor gave her hand a squeeze.

"We can't give up."

"Too right we won't!" she exclaimed.

"I'm going to get up for a while," the Doctor said to her, "The pain killers are working, I may as well make use of this time - I'll take over sending the signal."

Donna looked at him doubtfully. He was ill, and he looked ill. He looked exhausted from the pain and was still very weak.

"Maybe I should do it." Donna offered.

"Maybe _you_ should get some rest," he told her, "I'm going to have good and bad days from now on and if this is the start of a good day, I need to do as much as I can while I can still manage it. And when I can't manage anything, I need _you_ to look after me."

Then he fell silent as he looked into her eyes.

Donna considered what he had just said and it suddenly hit her that she could wind up struggling to care for him as his condition worsened - and she didn't know where to start, because she wasn't a nurse.

 _That was a scary thought..._

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing the way her eyes had clouded with worry.

"I was just wondering...if you get much worse...what the hell am I supposed to do? I'm not trained for this, I'm an office temp, not a nurse!"

"The med bay has a critical care machine that I can plug into if it comes to it," he told her.

"And what then?"

He knew that look as she met his gaze, and he knew he couldn't avoid the question, because Donna was right, she needed to know the truth.

"If I become critical and there's no donor, I have no choice but to regenerate. If I hold it off too long with the regenerative ability locked down, I won't regenerate if I die suddenly. That will be the end, I'll be _dead._ I can't let that happen because I'll be wiping out every future version of myself, I'm not going to be that reckless. At least, I hope I won't be. I have no idea what would happen if my body gave up on me tomorrow, because I'm blocking the regeneration pathways to hold on to _me_ , to keep _this_ version of me alive."

"So it's a dangerous game?"

Her words had been badly chosen.

The Doctor stared at her.

"It's _not_ a game, Donna!"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

He blinked, looking at her with dark eyes that looked darker than usual because his pupils had dilated and the pain relief was drugging him and also slowing his mind.

"Sorry," he said to her, "These pills make me a bit foggy...a game...no, that was a phrase, _not_ an accusation."

"Of course it was just a phrase! I meant -"

"I know what you meant. I just feel a bit confused..."

She ran her hand over his damp hair and looked into his drowsy eyes.

"Are you sure you want to send the signal? You look like you should stay in bed."

He smiled as a spark of optimism came back.

"I'm not in pain now," he said to her, "Don't worry about me, Donna. I know what I'm doing."

"I hope you do," she said in a worried tone as she watched him sit upright and then cautiously get out of bed. A brief spell of dizziness caused him to lean on her, and she caught him before that lean turned into a hard fall to the floor, and then as the dizziness faded, he let go of her.

"I'm okay," he promised, and he paused to drink some tea, then he reached for his clothing.

Donna said nothing as she waited for him as he got dressed, she simply waited and worried silently, because although he seemed a little better for the pain relief, clearly, he was worsening in other ways, and again she felt a mild flicker of panic as she considered the worst case scenario and again the question ran through her mind:

 _If his condition got much worse, how the hell was she supposed to handle it? She had no medical knowledge. She didn't know how to look after a chronically sick person, let alone a dying one..._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Doctor's condition seemed to be slightly improving thanks to the pain relief - although his eyes looked tired and his pupils remained dark and dilated and it was clear he was feeling drowsy.

As he leant on the console and then reached for the switch, he did it very slowly, and then made an effort not to slur his words as he spoke into the channel:

" _SOS...this is the Doctor, calling the Doctor. Urgent help needed, this is an emergency...SOS...need help."_

The reply came back as nothing more than empty, static hiss, and the sound of it seemed like extra weight that had just added to Donna's despair.

"Maybe I should take over," she offered.

The Doctor was leaning heavily on the console, the shadows under his eyes had deepened and now he wasn't sweating any more, nor did his face look flushed. Instead, he looked a deathly shade of pale.

"Doctor?" Donna said, as worry crept into her voice,"You don't look right..."

"I'm going to.." he paused, dragging in a breath as he fought off a wave of nausea, "Send a coded SOS...it'll play on a twelve hour loop... might not reach as far as the manual way but... Oh, I feel bloody _sick_!"

He took in another breath, and hastily set the controls, then watched as a red light blinked on and off on the control panel.

"Done," he said, and then he turned sharply from the console and hurried out of the room, and Donna hurried after him.

* * *

What followed next had left Donna's hopes that he was right about this being a good day absolutely crushed.

The Doctor had made it back to his room, where he had wrenched open the bathroom door, then fallen to his knees as his shaking hands gripped the toilet seat, and had been sick several times, and even when he had nothing more to throw up, he was still coughing and wreching - and it went on for three exhausting hours.

Finally Donna had helped him up, cleaned him up despite his protests that he could do it himself, and then she had helped him to undress and put him back to bed. He had taken more painkillers because the other dose was wearing off, but it seemed the nausea had really taken hold of him. She left him lying on his side beneath warm blankets, and had then taken his suit, which had caught some of the vomit, to the laundry room.

It was the start of four very tough days that saw the Doctor unable to leave his bed because of the sickness that had taken hold so viciously...

Each night, Donna had slept beside him as the Doctor went from shivering with cold to burning up with a fever, she had lost count of how many times she had changed the sheets and bathed him and then added more blankets because he said he was freezing cold, even though the Tardis had upped the temperature of the whole ship to try and meet his needs.

Giving him the second implant dose had made her heart ache, it had been every bit as painful as the first and the Doctor seemed to feel it all the more intensely because he was so weakened by the ordeal.

She had tried to persuade him to eat during better moments, but most of what she had managed to feed him came straight back up again. The Doctor already had a slender build and she knew if he lost any weight he would only get even weaker for it.

 _And the signal had been going out on a coded loop for four days now, and there had been no response..._

Although she usually spoke her mind, after encountering two of the other Doctors and hearing the same reason for refusal, Donna didn't want to tell the Doctor that there had been no reply to the signal because of two reasons:

 _Either no one was out there, or word had got back to the others, telling them not to intervene because of the time line...She didn't know if that was a real possibility, but if they were all parts of the same person scattered about time and capable of communicating, surely, they spoke together sometimes, didn't they? She bet they would have over something like this..._

* * *

As Donna sat beside the Doctor as he rested and struggled to cope with the side effects of the medication, he finally spoke up, ending a long silence that had only been punctured by his laboured breathing.

" _Turn it off. Turn the SOS off. No one can hear it. I'm taking the Tardis back to Earth. Maybe I'll have better luck from there."_

"Are you sure?"

As Donna looked into his eyes, she knew he was sure. He was too tired and weary and in too much pain to wait around for nothing.

"Turn it off for me...Can you do that? Did I show you how it works, I can't remember if you saw me switch it on..."

His memory was still hazy due to the pain relief.

"I know how to do it, I was right next to you," she reminded him, "And I'll go and do it now."

Then she got up and left the room, and went quickly down the corridor towards the Tardis console room, not wanting to think about how every effort had come to nothing, instead thinking on the fact that being on Earth could well make the signal easier for another Doctor to reach – it was all they had left to hope for now...

* * *

Donna walked into the console room and her thoughts were still on Earth and how they seemed to be running out of options frighteningly fast.

 _"Hello?"_ said a voice through the speaker system.

"What do you want?" she said wearily her thoughts still on returning to earth.

"More like, what do _you_ want?" the voice complained, "I detect _no_ hint of crisis in the universe at this time, yet I was sleeping and got woken up by an _SOS_ signal! I suppose that's what I get for installing a second emergency channel right next to my _bed_!"

It had hit her now, and all her sadness was chased away as her hopes rose and it hit her that someone was out there, and had picked up the call.

"I'm sorry to wake you up," she said quickly, and ran over to the console and looked down into the monitor, "But we need help. It's a matter of life or death."

And the slim built, grey haired man with distinguished features and eyes like an angry owl glared at her as he turned on to his side and a female hand snaked over his shoulder and a woman who looked much younger than him with dark hair and wide eyes also looked into the camera.

"If it's life or death he doesn't mind, _do_ you, Doctor?" she said as if prompting him to give a more sympathetic response.

He gave a sigh.

"Sorry about that...I was in bed with my girlfriend and..." he stopped, his eyes widening in surprise, _"Donna?"_ he exclaimed.

Donna looked back at him with equal surprise, and for two reasons:

She had wondered how he knew her name, and she was also wondering how this guy had the same face as a man they had not long ago saved from the volcanic eruption in Pompeii...

" _No!"_ she exclaimed, "You're _never_ the Doctor! Really? _How?_ You can't be..."

"I am!" he said, and now his tone was warmer as he looked at her through the monitor.

"But your face...Pompeii... _How_ did you do that?"

"I decided in my Tenth life time that one day I would wear this face to remind me what I do – _I save people_."

And Donna smiled as she blinked away tears of joy.

"I'm with him right now – the Tenth you...let me think, so...if he chose your face, you must remember everything about him in that life, am I right? Does that make you closer to him than most of your other selves?"

"I suppose so, why?"

"We need your help. He's dying from radiation poisoning. He doesn't want to go."

"I remember that," he replied, "I really didn't want to go. I would have given anything to...No, _wait_...I'm forgetting because I was in my Tenth life then, and now I'm in my Twelfth...Give me a minute..."

He paused, exchanged a glance with the woman beside him and then looked back at the camera.

"Okay, maybe I'm glad you woke me up..." and he glanced again to his lover, _"Clara, this never happened in my other time line,"_ he said in a hushed voice, and she gave a look of surprise and then shifted from view as she left his side.

The Doctor looked back into the monitor.

"He's changed his mind? He can't do that! I'm the Twelfth Doctor, I came along after him...I'm brand new, I'm not quite like him, I have a whole new set of regenerations... But I _do_ recall how I died in that life time and _you_ wasn't even there! I had to wipe your memory, I left you behind -"

"He found a way to fix that. He pulled out some of the power to keep him going...not that it's helped much. And he's run out of blood and he needs transfusions, and he's getting weaker. He's using these medication implants and its making him worse instead of better! And no one will listen, no one wants to help in case the time line gets damaged!"

Donna had tears in her eyes.

"Please help us," she begged him.

He silently recalled Donna so well from his other lifetime - _and_ how it took a lot to make her cry. He also recalled how much he had loved her, and he felt an ache and a yearning for yesterday in his twin hearts - and then a flicker of guilt as he wondered if that was a betrayal of his Clara.

The Twelfth Doctor paused for thought, and then he looked back into the monitor.

"Well, I do understand why my other selves have refused. But I also know _this_ – he's already changed his past by deciding to live as long as he can with the damage caused by the radiation, and nothing here has changed. _I'm still here_."

And then he smiled brightly.

"You can turn that signal off, Donna. I'll do what I can to help. Give me an hour. We'll come over to you."

"Thank you so much!" she said gratefully as she wished she could reach through the screen and hug him.

"Don't thank me yet," he reminded her as his smile faded, "I get what he's doing...he needs blood...I've got blood stocked up from my Eleventh and current life in the med bay. And I'm hoping both will be compatible. But I'm the start of a _new_ set of regenerations – just because my blood will be a match it _doesn't_ automatically follow that my bone marrow will be. But I'm hoping it will work out. He's done all the right things with the transfusions and the chemo but he can't last on it. He needs bone marrow. But, if mine isn't a perfect match there will be no more I can do."

"It _will_ be a match," Donna said firmly, "It has to be."

"If you say so," he replied doubtfully, "I know you Donna, _please_ remember what I just said to you. My bone marrow may not be quite right for him. We won't know until we test for it. I'll see you soon."

Then the screen went off.

Donna didn't want to think about his doubts, because at last she saw a glimmer of hope. She left the console room and went back down the corridor towards the bedroom, this time with a smile on her face.

* * *

"He's going to help us – a future you – number Twelve – he said he's coming over to us in an hour... _What have you done_?"

The Doctor was out of bed and dressed – minus his jacket and tie as he paused by the mirror to partly button his shirt, leaving the neck open because he now felt a little too hot.

He turned to Donna and looked at her in surprise.

"What did you say?"

"You're out of bed!"

She was still staring at him.

"I know that, I feel okay...having a good day at last. I've upped the pain meds and I feel somewhere between okay and a bit _too_ okay but I'm not complaining! Did you just say I've got a _donor_?"

Donna was still staring.

"Say something!" he exclaimed as his hearts raced and he wasn't sure of it was the meds or the hope that was sparking up inside him, "Donna, _speak_ to me!"

She looked at him, and then she blinked away tears that glazed her eyes as she ran her hand over his hair. It was now just over an inch in length and shot through with tiny slivers of grey.

"What did you cut your hair for?"

"Because I'm sick of waking up and finding it all over the pillow."

"But your hair -" Donna sounded heartbroken.

"We knew this would happen."

"Are you going grey?" she exclaimed.

"Slightly, it's a side effect of the medication - hopefully this will be as bad as gets, I lost a bit and some of it has turned a bit silver...I think it still looks okay."

"I loved your hair the way it was."

"So did I, but we have more _important_ stuff to be thinking about?"

"I know that, but..."

"Donna," he said, feeling his usually easy going self starting to run thin on patience, "Did you say we have a _donor_?"

"Yeah..I think so...he said he's not sure if he's compatible because he's the first in a new set of regenerations, but he wants to help. He's coming over to us in an hour."

The Doctor smiled and a sparkle came back to his eyes that had been long absent as he grabbed her and hugged her tightly.

"I _knew_ it was going to work out!" he said happily, and then he kissed her and hugged her again, and for a brief time she shared his optimism, now staying silent about her worries regarding the Twelfth Doctor's doubts.

* * *

Ever since the call had come through, Clara had remained thoughtful as she joined the Doctor at the console and he prepared to set landing coordinates to send his Tardis over to the Tardis of his former self.

She watched as he finished pressing buttons and then she looked at him.

"I think it's great you're doing this."

He glanced at her.

"So do I, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I can understand the other Doctors refusing because of the time line – they will _all_ refuse, because the time line, to them, has to come first. But I'm the latest model," and he smiled, "I'm still here, Clara. That proves what ever happens _won't_ wipe me out of existence because it would have done so already if it was going to happen – it would have happened the minute he decided to live instead of regenerate."

Clara leant against the console and looked up at him.

"But what about the future? Something has to change, right?"

"Maybe...but my memories are _already_ changing, I now recall deciding _not_ die," he paused, and a brief look of discomfort came to his face and then it was gone again, "I'm also recalling the pain he's going through right now. And I get the feeling that I won't be a donor for him. Remember when I regenerated, and I told you I didn't like the colour of my kidneys?"

Clara thought back.

"That was just you talking nonsense, some kind of post regenerative confusion."

"No," he told her, "It wasn't, Clara. I'm completely _new_. I'm still the Doctor, but the first in a new set of regenerations. That could mean a few variations in biological match even if the DNA matches perfectly. My blood could be a match for him but my bone marrow may not be. As soon as we go over there I'm going to run a match and see what turns up, there's no point giving him false hope."

"I hope you're wrong," Clara said.

"So do I," the Doctor replied, and then he threw a lever, and the Tardis melted away from the depths of inky space, and landed inside the other Tardis that floated nearby.

* * *

As the other Tardis materialised, the Tenth Doctor was leaning against the console as a wave of weakness swept over him, but seeing the sight of another blue box was enough to bring back his strength, along with a huge surge of hope.

"...And you will _not_ believe his face!" Donna exclaimed again, _"Pompeii!"_ she said for the third time, and he looked at her wearily.

"Yes, I know... you keep telling me that. I just hope we can get this over with quickly because I don't want to suffer like this any longer than I have to."

Donna gave his hand a quick squeeze and then let go again as the door of the other Tardis opened.

"It's going to be fine," she whispered.

"I hope so," he said quietly in reply.

Then as the Twelfth Doctor and Clara stepped out, he and Donna walked over to meet his former self, and for a brief time all worries and doubts were cast aside as the Doctor met his future self for the first time, and as they greeted each other warmly Donna smiled as she said Hi to Clara Oswald, and in that brief time, it was a moment that lifted the Doctor out of his despair as he looked to his older, future self and hoped he was looking into the eyes of the man who would save his life.

 _Nothing was yet guaranteed, but now he had something to hope for..._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

While the Twelfth Doctor fetched some stored blood from the Tardis and then went with the Tenth Doctor to the med bay to set up a much needed transfusion, Clara waited in the console room with Donna.

"How long have you known him?" Donna asked her.

"Since before he was that man you just met, he's the Twelfth. I met him in his Eleventh life. We've been together for a long time."

"At what point does _that_ happen though, I mean, I'm looking at my Doctor wanting to be with him forever and -"

"Oh no, don't see me as a threat!" Clara said quickly.

Donna stepped a little closer with her shoulders back and confidence reflecting in her eyes.

"Don't be silly. No one could be a threat to me and him. We're too strong for that. I meant, _when_ did you meet the Doctor?"

"A long while after he regenerated."

"Did he ever try to find me? Did he think about me, talk about me?"

"He was a different man," Clara replied, "And he's since regenerated again, and he's even _more_ different now. But as soon as he saw you on the monitor, he remembered you. I guess you and your Doctor must have something very deep."

"We do," Donna replied, and she smiled, and so did Clara, and suddenly no more tension existed between them.

"So, what's he like, your Doctor?" Donna asked her, and Clara laughed softly.

"Different. Hard to handle. But I love him."

Then she caught a flicker of pain in Donna's eyes and understood why right away.

"I know it's easy for me to say, but stay strong. Never give up."

Donna forced a smile.

"I do, all the time. _Mrs Positive Attitude_ , that's me, _all_ of the time."

"And when he's not looking, it's okay to be honest about it," Clara added.

Donna looked at her for a moment, saw nothing but understanding in her eyes and dropped the act, knowing by instinct that Clara was someone she could talk to openly.

"I say it's going to work out, I tell him that all the time. I see him in pain, I see him so weak he can't get out of bed sometimes, he throws up, he's losing weight, the man I love is starting to fade out in front of my eyes but I _still_ keep telling him that because it's what he wants to hear..." she drew in a breath as she tried to hold back the tears that blurred her eyes, "I feel like I'm lying to him...but I'd be letting him down if I broke down and held him and said I don't think I can handle losing him."

Clara shook her head.

"You're _not_ letting him down! And you _are_ allowed to cry!"

"But then I might not stop," Donna replied, "And then I'm not strong for him any more. I _know_ what loss is like. My dad and my grandmother are both gone. I know about that horrible emptiness, that void that can't be filled because the person is never coming back. And if I have to go through losing the Doctor, I think this is going to be one loss too many. He was my best friend. And we fell in love. I can't lose my best friend _and_ the man I love! I can't have an emptiness _that_ big in my life, do you get what I mean?"

"Yes I do," she replied, silently recalling the loss of Danny Pink, "I've been through it too. But you have to refuse to give up. You _have_ to carry on."

"And what if I can't?" Donna asked her, "Go on, tell me this – what happens if I can't go on?"

"You won't be on your own," Clara told her, "We're going to stay around for a while. And I'll be here to make sure you don't give up, okay?"

Donna nodded.

"Thanks," she said quietly, and as the two women embraced, Donna gave a quiet sob and Clara heard it, and so she held on to her, allowing her to let out all the pain she had held inside for so long in front of the man she loved.

* * *

The Doctor was leaning back on the reclining chair in the med bay, feeling better already for the blood that was flowing into his arm.

"I'm grateful for this," he said, looking over to his future self, who was running an analysis and waiting for the result on the bone marrow match.

"Don't thank me yet," the Twelfth Doctor replied, and he turned from the machine and looked over at his former self.

"Blood matching is easy – the machine can manipulate the last two percent to make the match perfect anyway. But bone marrow is a different thing altogether. And as I'm not one of your set but a new set of regenerations, it could be a problem in the way that a sibling could be an incompatible to match under human circumstances. The bone marrow needs to be up to a 96% match, if it is, it's a simple case of taking it out of me and giving you a transfusion. So much simpler than the treatment process for humans. However, I've looked at the initial analysis of your condition and I'm not seeing anything about you making it for another fifty years if this works."

And he fixed his gaze on the Doctor, who looked back him in silence as the older man's eyes fixed hard on him.

"Don't get me wrong," the Twelfth Doctor said as he walked over and stood beside the chair as the transfusion continued, "I understand, I remember you were always optimistic...but you _have_ to be realistic for Donna's sake. I've seen what the predicted out come actually is."

The blood was making him feel much stronger, and the Doctor hit a button on the chair, bring it back into a sitting position as the tube continued to feed the transfusion into his arm.

"The outcome is predicted as, a successful transplant, under the circumstances of such a heavy radiation dose, could give me up to fifty years. You're right, I am optimistic, I _am_ looking to the higher end of the scale. I know it actually said I could have between ten and fifty years, but I'd still rather focus on the higher number."

The Twelfth Doctor put his hand in his pocket as a flash of crimson jacket lining briefly brightened his dark attire.

"I don't think you've considered the fact that your body is ravaged by 500,000 rads – if I'm a match and if the transplant works, I doubt you'll have fifty years. Sorry to be blunt, but I prefer honesty over a lie no matter how well meaning the reason behind it."

The Doctor's transfusion was almost finished. He rested back against the chair and closed his eyes.

"Just stay well meaning," he said to him, "Skip the honesty for now. I just want some good news."

The older Doctor went back to the monitor and looked down at the screen, and saw it was still working.

"No news yet...no news is good news...I hope. I'll have to show you my Tardis soon, it's very impressive."

And he smiled as the younger Doctor opened his eyes as the transfusion ended and looked at him with interest.

"What's so different about yours?"

"It's bigger, faster, I've really tuned her up!"

The Doctor rolled down his sleeve and buttoned his cuff and laughed.

"Older Doctor, fast Tardis, young girlfriend...you know what you sound like..."

"No I don't," he replied honestly.

"Like on Earth, older guy, sports car, young companion...does this mean I'm having a mid life crisis when I get to my Twelfth life?"

And as amusement danced in his eyes, the Twelfth Doctor laughed.

"Oh, shut up!" he said, "You should see me play guitar. I rock! I _am_ a rock star on a few planets, too. I haven't told Clara that part yet, she'll _love_ it!"

And the Tenth Doctor laughed again, forgetting his pain for a moment as his older self laughed with him.

Then the Twelfth Doctor looked back at the screen and saw the result had come up, and his smile faded. He continued to look down at the screen as he held back his anger, resisting the urge to punch the monitor in sheer rage.

" _I'm sorry."_

He turned back to see the Tenth Doctor had just got up from the chair. Thanks to the transfusion, he looked much better-for now. But then he saw the look in his eyes, and his own gaze reflected despair.

"You're not a match?"

"Eighty-nine percent of me is. But it's not enough. I'm sorry. I did say this, I did tell you this might happen. Doctor, I'm sorry."

The Doctor rubbed his aching arm where the pain of the needle had bit deep, and then he looked down for a moment, avoiding his gaze as he silently vowed to keep himself together and not fall apart yet.

"You tried," he said as he looked at him once more, "Thanks for trying. And the blood will help to keep me out of bed and make me feel stronger at least for a while."

"Don't give up," the older Doctor said quietly, "Not yet. Maybe there's another way. But even if there isn't, you can and will regenerate one day because I'm here, that's proof that you do eventually go down that route."

"I'm starting to think it's all I have left," he replied, and as he walked over to join him,fear flickered in his dark eyes as he looked to his older self.

"But you know me, you remember this life you know how much I wanted to live!"

"I remember your fear after the prophecy. Yes, you did. You wanted to live, you wasn't ready to let go. But a lot of my memories are changing now...because of this choice you made. So what happens next has become a grey area. I don't have the answers any more than you do."

The two Time Lords looked at each other for a moment, and then the Twelfth Doctor spoke up again.

"I can't tell you what to do. I can't tamper with the time line. So far everything you have done has not negatively affected anything, and I want it to stay that way – so perhaps no more advice from me."

"What will you do now?" the Doctor asked him.

"Leave with Clara, there's nothing more I can do to help. I'm sorry it has to be this way, at least remember when everyone else refused I did say yes."

He smiled and despite the shadows under his eyes, the Doctor's gaze sparkled with warmth.

"I will remember that," he promised him, "It means a lot that you tried."

"And now," said Twelve, "You had better go and give Donna the bad news. Tell her now, don't delay. Her heart is breaking for you, I can see it in her eyes."

He nodded.

"I'll go and do that now," he replied, and then the Twelfth Doctor remained behind, watching as his former self left the med bay, feeling his pain as the memory hit him at once that telling Donna the bad news would be almost as hard for him to take as accepting it himself...

* * *

The Doctor found Donna in the console room with Clara, who had just led her out of the other Tardis.

"It is massive in there, I mean, _huge_!" she exclaimed, "You should come and see it -" her expression abruptly changed as she saw the look on his face and the deep sadness in his eyes.

" _We're not a close enough match,"_ he said.

Donna walked over to him and as he embraced her, he was glad of her shoulder to lean on as he buried his face in it, holding on tight as her closeness brought him comfort.

As the Twelfth Doctor entered the room he paused for a moment, leaning in the doorway between the console room and the corridor, looking lean and elegant in his black suit that showed a flash of crimson lining.

"Clara," he said, "Maybe we should leave now?"

"No," she replied firmly, "They need our help!"

The Doctor walked over to join her, then indicated to his awaiting Tardis.

" _Just go."_

He had spoken in a low voice, and Clara looked at him in confusion.

"Why?"

He looked over at his Tenth self, who was on the other side of the room, still embracing Donna, both of them were tearful and holding on as they spoke to each other in muffled whispers of comfort.

"They need us!" Clara whispered, "How can you be _so_ selfish -"

"I'm not, I want to try something. Tardis, now?"

He opened up the door and went inside.

"This had better be good!" Clara muttered, and then she followed him inside.

* * *

"Right," Clara said as she walked over to the console to join him, "What's this about? Because the way I see it is, they are both scared and it would be really, _really_ cruel to just take off and leave at a time like this! What is it you're running away from? Is it the illness thing?"

He gave a heavy sigh as his pale blue eyes met her gaze.

"You've got this all wrong. And I _don't_ have a thing about illness, just people throwing up! And no, I'm _not_ being cruel at all! _I have a plan_."

Her expression changed to one of interest.

"Okay, what is it?"

"I have no memory of what happens next, because his time line is changing and I'm slowly catching up. So we need to go ahead and see what happens. At least then I might be able to give him some advice."

"Is that safe, with the time line?"

"I don't know, Clara. I have to weigh that up and take it all into consideration."

She leant against the console and paused for thought.

"Right... before you leap ahead, maybe we should think about his _other_ choices."

"He obviously regenerates one day."

Clara met his gaze.

"Okay... grey area.. it's not all grey, just some...so tell me, think back...remember back in there in the other Tardis when you were him and with Donna and going through all of this...trying to reach someone who might be able to help you. Can you think of any specific version of yourself who might be willing to help?"

He closed his eyes, reaching out through the mists of time and the murky grey clouding caused by the changes to the time line, and then he opened his eyes again.

"No. My former selves, going right back from my first regeneration and upwards...all young in respect of their regeneration cycle...all very, very mindful of affecting the timeline. Even my Ninth self said no, and he's got guts, but he's not a gambler. He wouldn't tamper with the time line because he regenerated from the War Doctor and his memories of the Time War..."

"What about the Eleventh?I knew him well enough, he was very kind and -"

"He wouldn't mess with the time line either. The difference with me is, I'm the rebel Timelord. I'm the new one, I'm a bit different to the rest, hence my choice to get involved. There is no one else, Clara. He is going to die and regenerate and if he doesn't give in and regenerate soon, he will be handing down a memory of terrible pain, because he will suffer the kind of pain that regeneration can't erase from memory if he doesn't give in to it. I don't want to carry that baggage."

"Baggage?" Clara exclaimed, "It's his life, he's just trying to hold on to it – wouldn't you do the same?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"I don't know, Clara. Probably, because I know I would be just as terrified and I'd need you to hold my hand and I would hold on as long as I could, just to remain the man I am in this life, to be with you."

"I think he's holding on for Donna,"

"He is," the Doctor replied, "He's holding on for love. The strongest emotion in the universe. You can't argue with that motive, no one can."

"And you really can't save him?" she asked.

Sadness reflected in his eyes.

"If every other version of me won't intervene, the Doctor can't save the Doctor."

Clara thought again of Donna and how she had wept for the man she loved.

"Donna said she couldn't live without him, she loves him that much. She said she can't lose the man she loves _and_ her best friend too."

"Maybe she's right. In the other version of events I was forced to wipe her memory, so she forgot me. I don't know how she would cope now, when she's faced with losing him like this. I can't even begin to guess at what will happen there."

Clara thought some more.

"How did he get the radiation poisoning? Was it an accident?"

"No," the Doctor replied, "I know who I blame for that..."

For a moment, his pale eyes turned a shade of steel as anger reflected and he recalled the chain of events that had led to the fateful moment he had chosen to absorb the radiation.

 _And suddenly the Doctor was smiling_.

Clara stared at him.

"What?" she said, "What could possibly make you smile at a time like this?"

"I've just thought of another possibility," he said, and his eyes shone somewhere between determination and a slightly wild look of optimism.

" _We need to pay someone a visit."_

"Who?" she asked.

"Someone who could be a match. _Someone who owes me big time_."

She started to smile too.

"So you _do_ have a plan!"

" _Oh yes Clara, yes I do!"_ he exclaimed, and he threw a lever, and the Tardis took off, leaving the confines of the other Tardis and heading out through time and space, heading for a date with destiny that wouldn't change the time line, but would certainly settle an old score...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

" _This is a bad idea! This is the worst idea you've ever had, you want me to go up to Harold Saxon, aka The Master -a violent and dangerous psychopath, one day to become Missy - and get him alone so I can get a sample of his blood?"_

"Yes," the Doctor replied.

Clara stared at him.

 _"And you want me to do it in a little black dress?"_

The Doctor smiled.

"Well I'd do it, but the dress would look ridiculous on me."

" _It's not funny!"_

The Tardis was landing.

"I know its not," he replied, "Remember why you're doing this...and look after that," he indicated to the large black shoulder bag that complimented her outfit but was big enough to hide the equipment she needed to take with her, "Don't let him see anything inside that bag. If he does, he'll guess you're linked to the Doctor and will most likely take you prisoner - and we don't have time for that kind of mistake. If he's a match, the machine can draw off the bone marrow, then you call me and I come and pick you up. If there's a change of plan tell me _exactly_ where you are - I want to be in and out and get _you_ out as fast as I can."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"What's with the look?" he asked her, knowing her too well and knowing it was not often Clara had such a look about her.

She stepped closer to him, and his gaze shifted briefly over the sight of how her curves were emphasised by that black dress. He was sure he hadn't seen her look so alluring since he had taken her for a trip on the Orient Express...

"I'm willing to do what ever it takes to help Donna and the other Doctor. _But I draw the line at sleeping with Harold Saxon._ "

"It won't come to that."

"What if it does, though?"

He looked at her awkwardly.

"Tell me, what if I'm put in that situation?"

He pushed aside the usual rules he lived by as a sting of jealousy took over along with a rush of anger and hatred at the memory of countless centuries of war with the man.

"Then grab the nearest thing and smack him over the head with it – what's the worst that can happen, he regenerates?"

She looked up at him and smiled.

"You really do love me, don't you, Doctor..."

"No time for that, Clara, just get out there and find Saxon!"

"Kiss?" she reminded him.

He leant closer and their lips touched. She grabbed him for an unexpected hug and he briefly stiffened, then he held her for a moment and let go and stepped back.

"Be careful."

"I will."

Then she left the Tardis, and the Doctor watched as the door closed behind her, and he thought on her concerns, and continued to worry...

* * *

Far off in another time and place, the Tenth Doctor's Tardis was still floating gracefully in starlit darkness. As they broke off from their embrace, Donna wiped a tear from her lover's face.

"It's going to be fine," she promised him, "There's a way to sort this out, there has to be -"

"We just heard the other Tardis leave," the Doctor said to her, "My future self isn't going to stay around and wait for me to die just to be nice. He's got better things to do with his time. I saw it in his eyes, he's a man on a mission. Probably wants to put the universe to rights."

"But Clara said she wouldn't leave us, she said she wants to help."

The Doctor was resigned to the fact that they had gone for good.

"It's not Clara's Tardis," he reminded her, "And he doesn't come across as the kind of man to be swayed by sympathy, not in a situation where he can do nothing to help."

"I think they will come back," Donna told him, "We shouldn't leave yet – just wait a bit longer."

"Wait for what?" he said to her, "My time is running out. I'm thinking about maybe returning to Earth...if there's time."

"There's time to wait - and even when you can't wait any longer, we will spend that time together," she promised him, "How ever long or short that time turns out to be, I'm with you to the end."

And she ran her hand over his hair as she looked into his eyes.

"Don't be scared," she said softly, and then her hand slipped into his and together they left the console room and went back down the corridor, but as they passed the Doctor's bedroom and walked on, Donna looked at him in confusion.

"I thought you wanted to have a lie down?"

" _I never said that."_

Donna stopped walking, and so did the Doctor. They had reached the door that led to the Tardis med bay. As she met his gaze she saw a look in his eyes that made her heart ache, even though she wasn't sure what kind of a decision he had just made...

"You're not due another shot for three more days," she said.

"I'm not having any more shots. I'm taking the implant out."

"But those shots are keeping you alive!"

" _And in pain!"_

It was true. She had seen the price the Doctor had paid to prolong his life in a damaged body, and as deeper pain reflected in his eyes, she nodded.

"I understand why you want to stop," she said as the pain in her eyes matched his, "But Doctor, it's buying you time, and that's what you want, remember?"

"No," he replied, "Not any more. I was holding on because I still had hope. That's gone now. No donor, no cure. Yes the medication will buy me slightly more time - but at a price. You've seen what I've suffered already – and its going to get worse if I stick with the treatment program. The blood transfusions will just about keep me going for a few more days - assuming I don't suddenly deteriorate."

" _Days?"_

Donna's eyes were filled with tears.

" _Don't you do this!"_ she said as her voice cracked with emotion, _"Don't you dare back out now!"_

The Doctor was feeling weak and tired. The pain relief was threatening to wear off and the very last thing he needed to handle was Donna's fiery temper sparking up, no matter how well meaning she was.

"Just stop it," he said, sounding weary, "I mean it, Donna! Without the transplant I'm stuck like this, and it _will_ kill me! My options are gone."

"But you don't know that!" she looked at him pleadingly, "Everything you have gone through, _I've_ gone through with you. And I'm _not_ ready to quit!"

Frustration burned in the Timelord's eyes.

" _You don't know how this feels!"_

Tears burned in Donna's eyes.

" _And you don't know how I feel, watching you go through this!"_

The Doctor grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she finally gave in under the weight of her own pain and started to sob.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly as he held her and she continued to sob, "I've been selfish and stupid. I should have known I can't cheat death like this – I'm a Timelord, I'll have to regenerate eventually, I just wanted to hold on a while longer, to be with you. But that's not going to happen, I can see that now."

Donna pulled back from his embrace and her face was streaked with tears, but those tears were drying where they had fallen, and she suddenly seemed to have found her strength again.

"We don't have to give up yet -"

"Oh Donna, haven't you been listening?"

"Yes,I have," she told him, "And if you want to stop the chemo - fine, do it. You can always start taking it again if you change your mind, the drugs you've taken so far _must_ have gone some way to buying you a bit more time. But don't give up yet! Clara said her and the other Doctor would stick around and help us. _Doctor, they didn't say goodbye. They're coming back_."

He thought about it.

"Maybe you're right," he agreed, "But I'm still taking the implant out."

Finally, the Doctor was listening. Donna smiled.

"Okay," she said, "We'll do that. And then we _wait -_ because they _are_ coming back."

He looked tired as he finally managed a smile.

"Okay Donna, we'll wait," he agreed, "But I'm only doing this for _you_ ," And then they went into the med bay together.

* * *

On Earth, in another time and place, Clara had run into Harold Saxon in time to witness a bitter quarrel with his wife that had seen her leave a dinner date early and storm off home. Clara had approached him at the table with the line, _"Oh wow, you're THE Harold Saxon?I love your policies..."_

And an invitation to join him had followed, along with a regular routine of brushing his hand off her leg every time it strayed there as he talked of his plans to become prime minister.

His whispered words in her ear after dessert had turned her stomach, and she had forced a smile and reminded him they had to be so _very_ careful because of his position...

"Speaking of _positions,_ I've got a few of those to impress you with," he had said, and given her a wink.

 _And now they were in the back of a taxi, driving through London, heading for a cheap hotel..._

* * *

A short while later, after much shifting about on the seat to continually put a distance between them and fend off his advances, they arrived at a run down hotel, and it was Clara who paid for the taxi, and when they went inside she also paid for the room.

"You're keen," the Master had said.

"I can't deny that," Clara had replied, and then she had led him to their room and unlocked the door, and they had gone inside.

The room was plain and the sheets didn't look fresh and the carpet smelled funny – and something had just bitten her on the ankle, too...

 _It really was a flea pit..._

"I should be home by around midnight," he was saying, "Makes life a bit easier if I don't stay out all night – stops the wife nagging. Would have been _much_ worse if I spent the whole night with you, but we're not planning on sleeping, are we..."

His buckle flew open, he tugged down his zip, pushed down his trousers and stood there grinning at her in the dim lamp light as the bulge in his underwear became only too obvious.

Clara set her bag down on the bed, then she sat beside it and he sat beside her and reached for her. She drew a sharp breath and his eyes sparkled with glee as he mistook her unease for excitement beyond words.

Their lips touched.

He closed his eyes and his tongue was finding its way into her mouth, he was lost in the moment and she slid her hand up his shirt, over his shoulder, past his throat to the side of his neck – and the Master fell back on to the bed, immediately affected by the patch she had placed on his neck, a patch that would see him sleep deeply for at least six hours...

She looked at him, lying there on his side with his pants down:

 _At least he was in the right position, and she didn't have to undress him. His erection was going down too, and that was a relief after the effort she had been forced to make to fend him off a short while before..._

Clara opened up her bag, took out her phone and placed it on the bed, then she took out a small hand held device and touched it to the back of his hand, heard a click and then withdrew it as a trickle of blood ran from a tiny puncture wound. Then Clara hit the button and waited, watching as the screen began to scroll and the analysis began.

" _Hurry up,"_ she murmured, unsure exactly how long the sleep patch would work on the Master. The Doctor had assured her he would be out for at least four to six hours, but she just wanted this over and done with...

The analysis completed and she looked at the result, then she grabbed her phone and called the Doctor.

"Answer!" she said under her breath, wondering what had taken him so long, "I've got something to tell you..."

The call was finally picked up and the Doctor sounded slightly breathless.

"What's wrong with you?" Clara said.

"Nothing - I had a thing to do. A few things, actually...I got back to the Tardis and my phone was ringing...I'd left it on the console."

Clara glanced at the Master. He was still out cold.

"What things, Doctor?" she asked.

He had got his breath back now, and he quickly explained:

"I had to do it now before the time line is rewritten and certain events faded from my recollection of my other life – in the _other_ time line my Tenth self revisited old friends before he died. _I just paid those visits for him._ Saved Martha from a Sontaran sniper. Stopped Sarah Jane's son from being hit by a car... I've been closing up holes in the time line. Oh and by the way, Donna doesn't have to worry about her family's finances any more. They just won the lottery."

"How come you've never let me do that?"

He laughed softly down the phone.

"I thought you've already won it? You've got _me_!"

She smiled.

"That's possibly the most arrogant thing you've ever said!"

"That may be true Clara – but give it time, I'm sure I'll top that some day... what's the result on the typing?"

She smiled again.

"Ninety eight percent match."

"Now use the other device, the sharp end goes against the pelvis. The process takes ten minutes"

"I'm doing it now."

"Call me when you're ready, I'll come and get you."

The call ended.

Clara took a larger device from the bag and cautiously switched on the machine, and as she pressed the sharp narrow point of the device to his hip, it instantly attached to the skin, sunk in deep and began to drill into bone.

She didn't doubt he would be in a great deal of pain when he did wake up, but thinking on what he had caused to happen, she figured he deserved it - and at the end of the day, the only match in the universe who could save the Doctor would never have agreed to do so... Thinking on that made her feel slightly better as the machine finished the horrible sound of boring through bone, and then began to draw out the Master's bone marrow.

* * *

It was Donna who had removed the patch from the Doctors arm.

He had been unable to position the device to use the other end of it to withdraw the implant, so she had done it for him, and as soon as it was out, he had breathed a relieved sigh and then turned down his sleeve again to cover the deep bruising.

"Now lets land the Tardis," he said to her.

She looked at him in alarm.

"But the other Doctor -"

"Will be able to find me easily, he can lock on to my ship, I'm only going to land on a nearby planet. Come on, I can't waste time talking about it. I feel okay – for now. It's not going to last. I don't want to collapse with the Tardis in flight, I'm thinking of your safety."

Then he left the med bay and Donna hurried after him, concerned that now the meds had stopped taking their toll, he was doing too much too soon.

"Slow down!" she called as he entered the console room and she followed, "You should be resting -"

He was already preparing to land the Tardis.

"I can rest when we're on solid ground," he said to her, and as the Tardis headed for a nearby planet, Donna joined him at the console, watching him nervously:

 _The Doctor was dying, and she knew when the last of his strength left him, it would be as sudden as everything else that had happened to him, and she didn't want him falling – but if he did fall, she would be there to catch him..._

* * *

As the dingy hotel room lit up with a rush of wind and a glow and then the Tardis materialised, Clara breathed a relieved sigh.

She closed her bag and got up, looking back at the Master, who would wake with a painful hip and deep bruising. He was still sleeping deeply.

The Door of the Tardis opened and the Doctor cast a glance to the Master thought of all he had ever done and would do to cause more harm - and in a split second a thought ran through his mind and then it was gone:

 _If he killed him now, so many lives would be saved._

 _But he wasn't about to spill blood and set himself on the level of his enemy, how ever tempting the thought may be..._

"We have to hurry," he said to Clara as she joined him and stepped inside the Tardis,"I'm not sure what's happening, but my former self has just taken his ship out of orbit and landed on a nearby planet."

As the Tardis door closed behind then, he hurried over to the console and activated the controls, taking the ship into flight once more. Clara placed the bag on the floor.

"But it's okay now, we've got the transplant, its all sorted out, right?"

The Doctor had been looking down at the controls. As he met her gaze and she saw the look in his eyes, she knew at one she had been _very_ wrong about that assumption...

"What's wrong now?" she asked.

"He's landed the Tardis because if he dies, the Tardis will cease to function. He's afraid of dying and crashing with Donna on board."

"But then he'll regenerate."

"Maybe not," the Doctor said as worry reflected in his eyes, "He's kept going as he is by locking down his ability to allow the process to take place. If he dies suddenly, without the regeneration process active, he's dead and so is every other Doctor after him - every single potential regeneration that is meant to follow. _Including me_..."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As soon as the ship had landed, the Doctor had told Donna he wanted to look outside,because this planet was worth seeing. And so Donna had gone to the door of the Tardis and stepped outside, on to a wide landscape of lush green fields, where in the distance one way, a forest began and in other other, unspoiled, bluest sea calmly reflected sunlight.

Donna had looked about, admiring blossom on the trees that came in many shades of pink.

"Are we the only two people here?" she had wondered.

The Doctor leant against the open doorway of his ship as he looked out and then, feeling increasingly weak, placed his hand against it, borrowing some strength from the physical contact with his Tardis, and he leaned on the doorway heavily as he fought against worsening weakness.

"Yes, we are the only two people here," he told her, "And when I die the Tardis will take you home, I've programmed her for a flight plan to ensure you get back safely in the event of my death. Don't wait for me to regenerate, I don't know how long that will take now...I've forced my ability to regenerate to go into sleeping mode, it needs to wake up now. But with the state of me and all the drugs I've introduced to my system to fight the radiation, it could be delayed. I just hope it wakes up in time, or I've done a terrible thing – I'll die and the line will stop with me, history will be rewritten."

Donna had turned and looked at him, and although he looked pale and so weak it scared her, she tried not to show her fear.

"Don't give up yet," she said again, "They _will_ come back for us."

The Doctor let go of the doorway and stepped out to join her.

He paused to look into her eyes, and then he kissed her.

"I wouldn't have changed anything," he told her, "Everything I did led me to you in the end and I have no regrets for that."

"It's not the end yet," she replied, and then she looked to the landscape.

"We're really the only two people on the whole of this planet?"

"Yes we are...for now. In a couple of years a large corporation buys it and tears everything up and turns it into a giant transport base – one of the biggest airports for shuttle flights in the galaxy."

The wind blew sweet and warm Donna felt sure she had never known such unspoiled, clean air in the whole of her travels with the Doctor. She looked to the horizon and ran her fingers through her flame red hair as the breeze continued to sigh.

"Its so beautiful," she said to him, and sadness shaded her gaze as she looked at him, "Why do such lovely things have be destroyed?"

"I don't know," he replied, "Some things are not meant to last forever."

And she suddenly realised why tears were stinging her eyes as she looked at the man she loved, shot through with radiation and dying because of it.

"But at least it leaves a lovely memory," she replied, and as he reached for her, she grasped his hand tightly.

The wind blew again and she watched as a flock of birds took flight from distant treetops, heading off across a flawless blue sky as they seemed to be heading into a golden sun that shone down and lit up every colour in the world in a deep and beautiful shade.

"At least we got to see it before it's gone," she said, still watching those birds getting smaller as they flew into the distance, "We were there, that's what matters."

"We all need memories like this... _Donna, I don't feel too good.._."

As she realised the change in his tone, she turned her head, just as he slumped to the ground and his hand slipped from her grip.

She fell to her knees beside him as he weakly clutched at the open doorway, and then she pulled him into her arms, not caring that she would be covered with the blood that had started running from his nose.

" _Just hold me..."_ he murmured, _"Hold on to me, Donna..."_

He had sounded so peaceful and oblivious to the fact that she was weeping as she knelt on the ground and cradled him in her arms. His eyes closed and his lips parted as his breathing changed to a deep and slow pace.

"Doctor?" she said in panic, gently shaking him, "No, _don't_ do this now...please, we have to _wait_!"

And he continued to lay in her arms, deeply unconscious, his face and shirt stained crimson as the breeze that sighed over the rolling fields began to dry the blood stains.

Donna sobbed as she held him, and then she called out for help - but then remembered they were the only two people on the whole of the planet and no one could hear her... It was like a knife twisting deep in her heart, that knowledge that he had brought them somewhere so isolated - he had known he was going to die here, and nothing could be done to alter that now...

* * *

As the Twelfth Doctor's Tardis landed, the Doctor stepped out first, looked to the other Tardis where the doorway was open, and saw Donna sobbing as she cradled his younger self in her arms.

As he joined her, she looked up at him with tears shining wet on her face.

"He's dying. You're too late."

"And I have no intention of running the risk of dying with him just because he chose to put regeneration on hold," he replied, then he glanced to Clara, who was now by his side, "Let's take him to the med bay – in _my_ Tardis. It's better equipped to deal with this."

As Donna got up and then helped the older Doctor and Clara to carry him into the other Tardis she managed to stop crying, feeling stronger now because nothing had been worse than holding the man she loved in her arms and feeling powerless to help him. At least she wasn't alone any more, and that gave her a spark of hope that was enough to make her feel stronger, certainly strong enough for what ever was to happen next...

* * *

"I told you we were coming back," Clara said.

 _"But what can you do for him now? Look at him, he's dying!"_

As Donna spoke, she looked to the Doctor, who was now lying on a bed with sheets up to his chest, his shirt sleeve up and an IV in his arm.

"His vital signs are being monitored, " the Twelfth Doctor told her, "While that machine over there prepares the bone marrow for the transplant."

As he indicated to the machine near the bed, she looked at him in surprise as hope flowed back to her in a wonderful rush.

" _Bone marrow?"_

"We found a match. And once that machine had finished processing, the match will be one hundred percent instead of ninety eight, giving him an excellent chance of a full recovery."

She stared at him.

"But _how_...I mean, _who_ agreed to do this?"

The older Doctor exchanged a glance with his girlfriend and they both said nothing, and Donna was quick to pick up on that.

"What's the big secret? If someone has been unselfish enough to save his life, I want to know who they are – and so will the Doctor. He's going to want to thank them."

"There's no need for that," he said quickly, and then as he heard his younger self give a weary sigh, he looked over and saw the fluids that had been fed into his bloodstream had been enough to just about bring him out of unconsciousness, at least for a short time.

"Wait here, Donna," he said, "I need to speak to him."

" _So do I!"_

"And this is urgent!" he said sharply.

She glared at him.

"And I'm his partner, I've got a right to be with him - he's dying!"

"He won't be once that machine activates and takes the transfusion through the line that links to his IV. I just need to speak to him for a moment, so could you _please_ shut up, Donna?"

Her temper flared.

"What did you say to me? How about _YOU_ shut up -"

"Donna," Clara said, lightly touching her arm as Donna looked sharply at her, "The Doctor knows what he's doing. He just wants to explain to him that he's got the transplant...Come and sit down, come and talk to me, you look like you've been crying..."

"Of course I have, I'm _scared_!" she said, and then Clara led Donna away to the other side of the room and the Doctor breathed a relieved sigh, thankful he now had time to speak to his other self alone...

* * *

"Doctor," he said quietly, and the younger Doctor heard him and opened his eyes and looked up at him.

" _There's no point in trying any more...I'm dying."_

"No, you're not," his older self told him, "You have a match. As soon as the machine completes perfecting it to one hundred percent we can start the transfusion process."

The Doctor looked up at him, suddenly more alert as he took in the information.

"But how?"

"It doesn't matter how. What matters is you have a chance to live."

His dark eyes clouded with confusion.

"No...it _does_ matter. I want to know who did this for me."

As the older Doctor stood over him, he decided to cautiously see how he would react to a hint of the truth.

"Who knows?" he said in a joking tone, "Maybe it was even the Master -"

" _If it came from him, I don't want it!"_ his younger self exclaimed, becoming slightly breathless as his anger rose, _"He did this to me, he's to blame for this...for everything I've been through! I'd rather die than -"_

"Okay, you got me," Twelve said as he switched to Plan B, playfully holding his hands up, " _It was me._ We travelled far and wide and found a distant galaxy where they were able to make my tissue type a complete match for yours. I had the bone marrow extracted, the pain wore off after a couple of hours and we came back here. But don't make a big deal out of it, I'm a modest kind of guy. You _don't_ have to thank me."

The expression in the Tenth Doctor's eyes had changed.

"But I do," he said, and his voice was filled with gratitude.

The older Doctor turned away from his bedside.

"Its ready now," he said, "I'll just get the process started."

And he hit a button on the machine and watched as the transfusion started to take place.

"I am _so_ grateful to you!" his younger self said.

The Twelfth Doctor forced a smile.

"And you can lie back now and relax and wait for it to work. I'm in need of coffee. See you in a bit..."

Then he walked away, leaving his younger self to sleep and rest while the transfusion took place, and joined Donna and Clara, who were sat together in a seating area on the other side of the room.

* * *

"Did you tell him?" Clara asked as she looked up at him.

Her hand was linked with Donna's, and Donna had until then, looked on the brink of tears, but again she picked up on some kind of secret between Twelve and Clara...

"Tell him _what_?" Donna demanded.

The Doctor gave a sigh.

Then he shot a look to Clara, it was one of those brief, glancing looks that said a million words- the kind of secret language that only a lover could understand - and Clara got it at once:

 _Say nothing about the Master..._

Clara got up and so did Donna.

"What's this about?" she asked again.

He turned to Donna and lied very convincingly.

"I just wanted to explain to him that the reason we took so long coming back was because I'd had to get my bone marrow manipulated to be a match for his. It was a complicated process that took some time, we had to wait about for the transfusion to be fixed so that it was a close enough match for him to receive it."

Donna stared at him.

"You're telling me _you_ just saved his life?"

The Doctor saw a look in her eyes and felt awkward, sensing a hug was imminent.

"Yes, but _don't_ make a fuss, please -"

She launched herself at him and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly as he froze and then struggled to handle the huge hug that she had just wrapped him in as Donna gave him a big kiss, and then hugged him again as she thanked him over and over.

As he struggled with the discomfort of uninvited closeness, Clara caught the look on his face and she laughed softly and said nothing, watching in amusement as he paid the price for his white lie and Donna Noble hugged him yet again and told him how wonderful he was.

* * *

As soon as the transfusion was over, even as he slept, Donna, who had stayed for hours at the Doctor's bedside, started to notice a huge improvement in his condition. His skin lost its pallor and his breathing eased up, his temperature lowered, and suddenly he just looked like he was just sleeping instead of sleeping due to weakness.

 _The Doctor slept for the rest of the night._

In all that time, the Twelfth Doctor and Clara left them alone together, and they were still alone together when he finally woke up in the morning.

"I really need to thank him," he said as he opened his eyes and looked up at Donna, "He saved my life. I'm okay, I know I am, I can _feel_ it!"

Donna laughed softly, and as she looked into his eyes, it was a relief to see all trace of worry and fear was gone now.

"I think he's hiding," she said, "He's scared of getting more hugs!"

The Doctor laughed too, and as amusement sparkled in his eyes, he reached of Donna's hand and held it tightly.

"I can't wait to get out of this bed!" he said to her, "You and me can pick up where we left off...we can travel, I've got _so_ much more of the universe to show you."

" _I wouldn't make those plans just yet."_

The Twelfth Doctor walked into the med bay, and as he heard those words spoken, his younger self sat up in bed with ease and paused to remove the IV line from his arm.

"Why not?" he asked, and as the Timelords looked at each other, Donna felt a flicker of worry.

" _No_ ," she said fiercely, "I _refuse_ to be given any more bad news! He's been through hell!"

The Doctor gave her hand a squeeze.

"Donna, it's okay... _I'm_ okay now. Let's just hear him out."

And he met with the gaze of his older self.

"What do I need to know?" he asked.

The Twelfth Doctor stood at his bedside and handed him a print out from the machine.

"It's good news. You get at least fifty years of life in your current form before the transplant fails and regeneration takes place. When that starts to happen you _must_ return to the Tardis."

He nodded.

"Of course, to preserve the time line."

"That's not all," Twelve added, "I know you want adventure, but I'm afraid things have changed. The Tardis won't allow the risk of you flying about time and space because _that_ has to _stop_ in alignment with the date of your death in the other timeline. And so to protect the time line, the Tardis has a locked on flight pre planned, the one that you put in for Donna. _Once you take that flight, you're grounded_."

"Grounded?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, grounded. That's the price you pay for the extra time. So you and Donna get to have a life together on Earth as Mr and Mrs Smith and raise a couple of kids."

" _We're going to have kids?"_ Donna said as joy filled her eyes.

Twelve gave a sigh.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you that part, but it's been a long day and I forgot about holding back... Yes, I looked ahead. It's all going to be fine. But Doctor, you _have_ to stay on Earth. The Tardis will function on half power once you land, enabling you to continue the use of the replicator in the med bay to manufacture the anti rejection drugs you have to take for the rest of your Tenth life. But she won't fly. _Not_ until its time for you to regenerate."

Then he caught the look in the eyes of his younger self, and knew that news would take time to sink in, because in that lifetime, he had so very much loved adventure and the thrill of travel...

* * *

 _Three days passed by._

In that time the Doctor was feeling recovered and looked better and better with each passing day. And the Twelfth Doctor kept busy in his own Tardis out of his way, because he didn't want to be thanked for something he had not done, nor did he want any more hugs unless he could help it, and he guessed with the level of their happiness and gratitude, there would be _plenty_ coming his way from his younger self and Donna if he didn't watch out...

"We should leave soon," he said as Clara walked into the console room.

"I was hoping we could go back and spend some time with them," she replied, "I see no reason why we can't."

The Doctor turned from the console and looked into her eyes.

"I see plenty of reason, Clara. _The time line_. Enough has been changed, _and_ without causing harm to the galaxy. We need to leave them alone now, we really do."

Sadness reflected in Clara's gaze as she thought of how she had spent much time over the past few days watching Donna's joy at her lover's recovery, and then she recalled how the two of them had walked along those rolling hills together, as they had talked together and a friendship had been forged.

"But I feel really close to both of them, especially Donna," she told him.

The Doctor was unsympathetic.

"I'm serious," he replied, " _Enough_ has been changed. I've gone forward and I've seen their life together. It's set in stone now because its going to happen. I remember every moment of it and it will be great for both of them. Please understand, we _have_ to leave."

"Do we really have to, I mean, right now? Don't you feel closer to them? I do, I don't see how I could feel any less after what they've been through."

"I _do_ feel closer to who I was in that lifetime, yes. And I have memories of a happy and long marriage to Donna in that lifetime too. I also remember our children. But I'm a different man now. And I _like_ the life I have with you and I wouldn't risk more ripples in the time line just for the sake of nostalgia."

"Then we should say goodbye to them," Clara replied.

"Yes, we should," he agreed, "Because they are leaving soon and that last flight in the Tardis will take them home, where they will definitely be happy."

His words brought a smile to her lips.

"As long as they get to be happy," she told him, "Saying goodbye won't be so bad."

And then they left the Tardis, stepping outside to where the Tenth Doctor had now moved his own Tardis a short distance away on the hillside. The door was open, and they began to walk towards it.

* * *

When they reached the other Tardis, Donna stepped out of it and joined them.

"We're leaving soon," she said.

"So are we," Clara replied, "And I wish we could stay in touch but -"

"The time line, I know - me and the Doctor have just had that conversation too," she replied, "But I do wish we could have met up again. I think you and me would have been friends for life."

"So do I," Clara told her, and the two women embraced as they said their farewells.

As the Twelfth Doctor waited for Clara to finish talking with Donna, someone tapped him on the shoulder - and he turned to see his former self step out of his Tardis.

"You're looking well," he told him, and the Tenth Doctor smiled.

"I feel absolutely fine," he replied as he stood talking to the older man on the hillside and the breeze whipped at his long coat, "And I've been making plans with Donna. As soon as we get back, we're going to see her family, tell them what's happened and -"

 _"Wilf will be overjoyed to welcome you to the family. And Donna's mother will be relieved that you're not longer chasing after danger and aliens any more. She's going to be glad to see you settle down with Donna. It's because you tell her about the transplant. She starts seeing you as less the alien trouble maker and more the son in law she wants to welcome into her home. She's going to get all overprotective towards you because of what you've been through. And she's going to love the grand children when they come along."_

"You really have looked ahead, you've looked a _long_ way!"

Twelve smiled.

"I don't need to now," and he tapped the side of his head as he looked at him knowingly, "I _already_ have it all up here, I remember the rest of your life time. It's going to be great!"

His younger self smiled back at him brightly.

"I'm thinking maybe three months from now -"

"Two," Twelve corrected him,"You get married to Donna two months from now - as soon as your hair is long enough to spike up and look good for the wedding photos."

And the Doctor looked on as the younger one ran his fingers through his hair and thought about it. His hair was a little longer already, and some of the grey had already started to fade out.

"I'm so grateful I get to stay around," he said to his older self, "And that's thanks to you."

Twelve smiled and looked away, avoiding his gaze for a moment.

"You really don't need to thank me. Anyone would have done the same."

" _But they didn't."_

He heard emotion in his voice, and as he looked back at him, the Tenth Doctor's eyes lit up with warmth.

"I _have_ to do this. I'm so sorry, I know you don't like it but... don't move, just stay there..."

The Twelfth Doctor froze awkwardly as his Tenth self grabbed hold of him and gave him a tight hug.

" _Thank you,"_ he said warmly as he let go again, _"Thank you so much for saving my life."_

Twelve smiled back at him.

"It really wasn't a big deal for me," he replied, "I'm just glad you get to stay around and have the life you want – with the person you want to be with."

Donna had joined them now.

"Are we off, then?" she asked, and the Doctor nodded.

"It's time to go home," he told her, "You and me – back to Earth," And he couldn't hold back his excitement as he took hold of her hand, "Our future awaits us, Donna Noble!" he said, and they exchanged a kiss and then stepped inside the Tardis.

Donna glanced back over her shoulder as Clara, who had just joined the Twelfth Doctor, gave her a smile. Then the door closed and the Tardis faded in and out of sight and then disappeared from view, off on its journey back to Earth where two people who loved each other would now be able to spend a lifetime together.

* * *

A short while later, after the Twelfth Doctor and Clara had left in their own Tardis, as the blue box spun gently through time and space, Clara watched as her lover busied himself checking the controls on the console.

"I'm glad they get to be together," she said.

"What? Oh yes, that... I remember that life," the Doctor replied as he kept his back turned to avoid the awkward subject he felt sure was looming, "Happy times...a life time with her, a good marriage. They are out there living it now, while I'm here, way ahead of them, remembering it all."

"So..."

He tensed.

 _Here it was, he could feel it coming..._

And then she said it.

"I suppose now you're two more lifetimes along and two thousand years old, you're just about ready to think about doing it again."

"Doing what?"

" _Getting married again?"_

He turned from the console.

She smiled at him hopefully.

"Clara," he said and as she stepped closer, he smiled too. It was _that_ smile, the one that covered so many excuses, and she could tell he was trying really, _really_ hard to sound convincing...

"That was then. I'm a different man now. And I'm _no_ t ready to settle down! I like danger, chasing monsters and I play guitar like a rock star. And I really, _really_ love the life we have together – as it is. I wouldn't change it for anything!"

"Neither would I," she replied, and then he smiled again, and this time she could tell he was _really_ happy.

"Let's see what's next!" he said excitedly, and they threw the lever together, laughing as the Tardis prepared to land.

As she looked into his eyes, Clara thought on his reply on the subject of marriage, and decided it hadn't bothered her as much as she thought it would:

 _It wasn't the reply she wanted, but it was the one she had expected because she knew him so very well - and if that made him happy now he was his quirky, free spirited two thousand year old self, that was just fine by her._

End


End file.
